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(FRONTisriECE.) - Battle fields or 'Oi. 



ASHBY'S ESCAPE. 



Battle -Fields of '6i 



A NARRATIVE OF THE MILITARY OPERATIONS OF THE WAR 

FOR THE UNION UP TO THE END OF THE 

PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN 



by; 
WILLIS Ju ABBOT 

Author of " Blue Jackets of '6r .- " " Blue Jackets of 1812; " " Blue Jackets of '76 ' 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. C. JACKSON 




NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



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S,¥. 



Copyright, 1S89 
By DODD, mead & COMPANY 






^ockiucll nnb Cburcbiil 

BOSTON 



INTRODUCTION. 



HE events in that colossal struggle for national unity on 
the one side, and for sectional independence upon the 
other, generally termed the Civil War in the United States, 
seem naturally to fall into three groups or periods. 
The first period was one of doubt and uncertainty; of measuring 
strength; of forming and rejecting plans; of testing and discarding 
generals. Beginning with the bombardment of Fort Sumter, and ending 
with the disastrous failure of General McClellan's peninsular campaign, 
it comprehended many notable victories for both Federals and Con- 
federates. It was a period in which the men of the South held 
themselves wholly on the defensive. The battles were fought upon 
Southern soil. The gray-clad armies did not set foot upon Northern 
territory during its continuance. Yet at the end of this period the work 
of quelling the uprising of the Southern people seemed as far from 
completion as on that July day when McDowell's troops recoiled, 
shattered and bleeding, from the fatal field of Bull Run. 

The second period begins with General Lee's invasion of Maryland. 
The Confederates had become alive to the magnitude of the task 
they had imposed upon themselves when they sought to rend in twain 
the American Union. They had discovered the determination of the 
North. They had seen more than a year pass with no sign of recog- 
nition from any European nation. They felt themselves growing ex- 
hausted by the strain of a purely defensive warfare. Rallying all their 
strength they carried the war into the Northern States, and fought 
fiercely to maintain it there. It was during this period that the most 



vi INTRODUCTION. 



hotly contested battles were fought, and the most dashing and colossal 
campaigns undertaken. 

The third period dates from the accession of General Grant to the 
supreme command of the Union armies. Before the constant and 
merciless blows of " the Great Hammerer " the Confederate armies 
wasted away. It was an era of fighting against fate. All hope of 
victory was dead. The one chance of success for the Confederates lay 
in the recognition of the Confederacy by some foreign power, which 
should give them succor and assistance. Clinging to this desperate hope 
they fought a dilatory warfare against overwhelming odds, until the 
surrender of Lee at Appomattox happily ended the fratricidal war. 

Under the title "Battle Fields of '6i " I have tried to tell the story 
of the first period of this protracted struggle. In telling it I have ever 
kept in mind the fact that military genius and human bravery must 
always awaken admiration, even when enlisted in support of a cause 
which we may regard as eternally wrong. The march of time has put 
the civil war and its causes far behind us. Let us recognize the 
sincerity and conscientiousness of the men who drew the sword in 
support of the South, and accept the records of their valor, persever- 
ance, and uncomplaining endurance as a part of the glorious heritage 
of the people of the United States. 

WILLIS J. ABBOT. 




CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 



PAGE 



The Quarrel. — How the War Spirit grew and was fostered. — Slavery. 
— The Missouri Compromise. — The War in Kansas. — The Massacre 
AT Dutch Henry's Crossing. — Acts of Violence. — The Fugitive Slave 
Law. — John Brown at Harper's Ferry . i 



CHAPTER n. 

The Political Struggle. — Nominations for President. — Abraham Lincoln 
elected. — The Secession of South Carolina. — Seizure of Federal 
Forts. — Lieutenant Slemmer saves Fort Pickens. — Secretary Dix 
and the American Flag 25 



CHAPTER IIL 

In Charleston Harbor. — Defences of the Port. — Major Anderson in 
Fort Moultrie. — Growing Hostility of the People of Charleston. 
— Anderson removes to Fort Sumter. — Secessionists seize the other 
Forts. — Secessionists fire upon the "Star of the West." — Anderson 
summoned to surrender. — Bombardment of Fort Su.mter. — Capitu- 
lation, AND Evacuation of the Fort 38 

vii 



viii CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

I'AGE 

President Lincoln calls for Troops. — Volunteers North and South. — 
Massachusetts Soldiers in Baltimore. — Harper's Ferry and the 
Norfolk Navy- Yard. — Boundaries of the Confederacy. — West Vir- 
ginia joins the Union. — Kentucky remains Loyal. — How Lyon saved 
Missouri 70 

CHAPTER V. 

Activity of the Confederates. — The Federals cross the Potomac. — 
Death of Ellsworth. — Battle of Big Bethel. — The Ambu.scade on 
the Railroad. — McClellan in West Vir(;inia. — Battle of Rich 
Mountain. — Death of General Garnett ....... 88 

CHAPTER VI. 

" On to Richmond." — The People de.mand an Lnvasion of Confederate 
Territory. — General McDowell's Plan of Campaign. — Operations 
IN the Shenandoah Valley. — Patterson's Campaign. — The Advance 
to Bull Run. — A Skirmish. — The Plan of Battle. — Machinery to 
THE Front. — Jackson like a Stone Wall. — The Disaster to 
Griffin's Battery. — Defeat of the Union Army. — The Retreat 
TO Washington loi 

CHAPTER VII. 

Not discouraged. — General McClellan put in Command of the Union 
Army. — W' arfare in Missouri. — Price's Motley Army. — Battle of 
Wilson's Creek. — The Disaster to Sigel. — The Death of General 
Lyon. — Retreat of the Federals. — Martial Law in St. Louis. — 
Battle of Lexington. — Mulligan's Desperate Defence. — Lexington 
surrenders. — General Grant at Belmont 136 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Campaigning in West Virginia. — Skirmishes at Carnifex Ferry and Cheat 
Mountain. — The Destruction of Guyandotte. — The Expedition to 
Hatteras Lnlet. — Port Royal. — Battle of Ball's Bluff. — Battle 
of Santa Rosa Island. — Close of 1861 163 



CONTENTS. ix 



CHAPTER IX. 

PAGB 

Campaigning in Kentucky. — The Battle of Prestonburg. — Battle of 
Mill Spring. — The Advance into Tennessee. — General Grant takes 
Fort Henry. — Preparations for the Attack upon Fort Donelson. — 
Skirmishing along the Lines. — A Cold Bivouac. — The Repulse of 
the Gunboats. — Confederates take the Offensive. — Surrender of 
Fort Donelson 175 

- CHAPTER X. 

The War in the East. — The Confederates on Roanoke Island. — Burn- 
side's Expedition. — The Advance upon Beaufort. — Battle of New 
Berne. — Fall of Fort Macon. — New Madrid and Island No. 10. — 
The Canal through the Swamp. — The " Carondelet '' runs the 
Batteries. — Evacuation and Surrender of Island No. 10. — In 
South-west Missouri. — The Battle of Pea Ridge . . . .212 

CHAPTER XL 

The Battle of Shiloh. — Why the Battle was fought there. — Lethargy 
OF Grant's Army. — General Johnston determines to attack. — The 
Surprise of General Prentiss. — Grant reaches the Field. — The 
Hornets' Nest. — The Confederates successful. — Second Day at 
Shiloh. — The Federals Victorious 239 

CHAPTER Xn. 

New Orleans. — Plans for the Capture of the Crescent City. — 
Butler's Expedition. — The Forts at the Mouth of the Mississippi 
River. — Farragut's Naval Expedition. — The Passage of the Forts. 
— The City taken. — River Battle before Memphis. — Ellet and his 
Steam-Rams. — Memphis taken , . . 262 

CHAPTER XHI. 

The Peninsular Campaign. — General McClellan in , Disfavor. — Rival 
Plans of Campaign. — The Peninsula. — Siege of Yorktown. — Battle 
of Williamsburg. — The James River opened. — Peril of McClellan's 
Army. — Battle of Seven Pines and Fair Oaks 282 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

PAGE 

Stonewall Jackson. — The Shenandoah Valley. — How Jackson checked 
McDowell. — Ashby's Exploits. — Evacuation of Winchester. — Battle 
OF Kernstown. — Battle of McDowell. — Surprise of the Federals 
at Front Royal. — On the Road to Winchester. — Death of Ashby. 
— Battle of Port Republic. — Battle of Cross Keys. — End of the 
Valley Campaign 305 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Seven Days before Richmond. — Battle of Ellison's Mills. — Battle 
of Gaines's Mill. — Battle of Savage's Station. — Battle of Glen- 
dale. — Battle of Malvern Hill. — McClellan's Final Retreat. — 
Close of the Peninsular Campaign. — The End 327 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

J AsHBY'S Escape Frontispiece 

1^ Massacre at Dutch Henry's Crossing 13 

,^ Storming Brown's Castle 21 

^ The Floating Battery in Action 5^ 

Sergeant Carmody Fights Single-handed 59 

Sergeant Hart and the Colors 65 

1^ The Riot in Baltimore 73 

\j Attacking a Railway Train 95 

^Batteries in Action 113 

, Bringing up the Guns 121 

Fighting for Ricketts's Guns 129 

(/ Death of Lyon 145 

^,THE Hemp-bale Barriers 153 

Grant at Belmont 159 

The Death of Baker 169 

The Bombardment of Fort Henry 185 

Sharp-shooters at Fort Donelson -195 

zi 



Xll 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Smith's Charge at Fort Donelson 
, Ox Picket 

Rallying upon the Colors . 

The Surprise at Shiloh 

Char(;ixg the Hornets' Nest 
I The Passage of the Bayou . 

Fighting on the Skirmish Line 
, Sumner's .March to Seven Pines 

Jackson at Kernstown . 

Burning Stores at White House 

A Shell from the Gunboats 



PAGB 
205 
225 

247 
255 
275 
287 

311 

339 
3Si 



LIST OF MAPS 



The Bull Run Campaign 

Battle of Bull Run. - Positions in the Forenoon 

^ Battle of Bull Run. - Positions in the Afternoon 

^ Scene of Operations in Missouri 

N, Operations on Western Rivers . 

Fort Donelson 

New Madrid and Isl.and Xo. 10 . 
Battle of Shiloh 



109 

117 
125 
140 
181 
199 

22 I 

250 




BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE QUARREL. HOW THE WAR SPIRIT GREW AND WAS FOSTERED. SLAVERY. 

THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. THE WAR IN KANSAS. THE ]\L\SSACRE AT DUTCH 

henry's CROSSING. ACTS OF VIOLENCE. THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. JOHN BROWN 

AT harper's ferry. 




URING the winter of i860 and the early spring of 1861 the 
eyes of the civiHzed world were fixed upon the compara- 
tively insignificant American seaport town, Charleston, South 
Carolina. Rising directly from the water, in the very centre 
of the entrance to that harbor stood the mass of masonry known as Fort 
Sumter, — a name destined to go down to fame along with Bunker Hill, 
Valley Forge, and other by-words of American history. A handful of 
United States soldiers occupied the fort, and from its flag-staff floated 
the stars and stripes. The national colors, floating over a national for- 
tress, in the harbor of one of the oldest cities of the United States, — 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '61. 



surely in that there could be nothing to excite apprehension at home, 
or to cause European peoples to divert their attention from the political 
quarrels and dissensions with which Europe is forever racked, and to 
shake their heads with apprehension of grave troubles in store for the 
great American republic. 

But was Fort Sumter in a United States port? The blue-clad 
Federal soldier, peering through a casemate across the cold gray waters 
of Charleston harbor in January. '61. might well be excused for doubt 
upon this point. From the low-lying shores surrounding the harbor 
ramparts and bastions were rising, and the black muzzles of half a 
hundred guns were pointed towards Sumter. Over these armed works 
flags were flying, but the familiar flag of the Union was nowhere to 
be seen. Over most of the batteries waved the palmetto flag of South 
Carolina. At one point a banner, bearing a representation of a pelican 
feeding its young, told that a celebrated artillery company from Louisiana 
was encamped beneath its shadow. After the 5th of March, the belea- 
guered garrison saw a new flag appear over the hostile works, — the 
stars and bars of the young Confederate States of America. 

Had any soldier among the besieged wearers of the blue felt any 
doubt as to the true meaning of those frowning ramparts, those menacing 
cannon, and those strange and unaccustomed flags, he had not long to 
wait for enlightenment; for at half-past four, on the morning of the 12th 
of April, 1 86 1, a gun fired from a battery on James Island sent a shell 
shrieking through the air to burst directly above the flag waving from 
the bastion of Fort Sumter. It was the appointed signal for the opening 
of the bombardment, and it proved to be, moreover, the signal for the 
commencement of the most colossal and the most bloody war of modern 
histor>-; and, saddest of all, it was the signal for civil war. — a war 
in which brother was arrayed against brother, and fathers against their 
sons. 

But, though the civil war began with that shot fired at Fort Sumter, 
we must go back in the history of the United States several years, to 
find the causes which gradually led .'p to the bitter struggle. Mere 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



sectional jealousy had much to do with it. In those days the railroads 
did not bind together the widely separated parts of the country with 
iron bonds. New Orleans was as far from New York then, as New York 
is now from London or Paris. The business interests of the North and 
South were diverse. News and letters travelled slowly between the 
sections. Though nominally a united nation, the States of the Union 
were in reality strangers to each other, full of jealousies and bickerings, 
and ripe for a civil war that to-day would be impossible. 

With so little to unite the individual States into one strong nation, 
it is small wonder that a political question of supreme importance should 
serve to divide the Union into two hostile parties, and that the bitterness 
engendered by political discussion, victory, and defeat should finally 
result in the withdrawal of a number of the States for the purpose of 
setting up a nation of their own. Such a question there was, embittering 
the debates in Congress, breaking up political parties and organized 
churches, and carrying hatred even into families. It was the question of 
Slavery. 

But, while the existence of slavery in the Southern States did lead 
up to the war, it is a mistake to look upon that great conflict as an 
organized and deliberate effort to achieve the freedom of the negro 
by the sword. That in the end that long and bloody struggle did 
result in the total abolition of slavery in the United States was, indeed, 
so great a boon to the cause of civilization, that before it all other 
evidences of the world's progress during the present century seem as 
nothing; but that the war did so result was due to no preconcerted 
plan. The South may have avowedly gone to war for the protection 
of its slaves, but the North, in taking up arms, strenuously denied its 
intention of looking upon the enslaved blacks as other than private 
property, just like the planter's horses or oxen. Even after the war 
was fairly opened, when General Fremont, commanding the United States 
troops in Missouri, took it upon himself to declare free all those 
slaves in Missouri whose owners had taken up arms against the Federal 
government, his action was severely condemned by the Federal authori- 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



ties, and the order revoked by the direction of President Lincoln 
himself. 

But though the North, through its representatives at Washington, 
before the beginning of the war and for some time after active hos- 
tihties had begun, denied any intention to interfere with slavery in the 
States in which it already existed, yet popular sentiment in the North was 
boldly outspoken in demanding that as new States were admitted to 
the Union from the rapidly growing territory west of the Mississippi 
river, they should be admitted as free States, and have incorporated in 
the constitution of each a section declaring human slavery illegal. The 
people of the South saw that, if this were done, the free States would 
soon outnumber the slave States, and the existence of the institution of 
slavery in the South would be jeopardized. Quick to take alarm, and 
having always looked upon the Federal union as a union of sovereign 
States, created by the States and terminable at the will of any one of 
them, the people of the Southern States were readily persuaded by 
their leaders that their wisest course was to withdraw entirely from a 
Union in which their property rights were menaced by the growing 
strength of the party of anti-slavery. And so it happened that when 
the presidential election of i860 ended in the election of Abraham 
Lincoln, the Southern States, one after another, declared their intention 
of immediately seceding from the United States. The States of the North, 
remaining loyal to the national government, declared that that government 
was founded upon an irrevocable pact ; that no State had the authority 
to declare itself free of Federal authority, and that that authority should 
be established and its mandates enforced in every city and village of 
the seceding States. There lay the issue, and then followed the war 
which was to decide it. 

This quarrel between the slavery and anti-slavery parties began as 
early as 1820, when Missouri, the first of the new States west of the 
Mississippi, knocked for admission to the Union. After prolonged debate 
she was admitted as a slave State, but at the same time Congress 
enacted a law which provided that thereafter no new State or Territory 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



lying north of the southern boundary of Missouri should recognize 
slavery as lawful. For a time this stilled the gathering storm, but when 
it again broke forth it was with renewed fury. 

With the continued stream of emigration westward, the territory 
lying to the west of Missouri soon began to fill up. Settlers poured 
in, farms and clearings became numerous, little villages began to grow 
up. While the country was wild and sparsely populated the settlers 
governed themselves, recognizing no authority, and appealing to none 
for protection. But, as the population increased, the necessity for a 
regular form of government became apparent, and in 1854 we find 
the two Territories of Kansas and Nebraska organized, and asking Con- 
gress to provide them with territorial officers and recognize them as 
Territories of the United States. Both lay north of the southern boun- 
dary line of Missouri, but both were admitted as Territories, with the 
proviso that slavery should be recognized or prohibited according to 
the will of a majority of the settlers in the Territory. By this act the 
historic Missouri Compromise, which had been expected to settle the 
slavery question, was annulled. After this the struggle between the slavery 
and anti-slavery elements became one of deeds as well as of words. In 
the halls of Congress, in debating societies, and at political gatherings 
of all kinds the discussion was carried on. But out in Kansas the 
rifle and the shot-gun were the arguments upon which both sides largely 
relied. 

The bill by which Kansas and Nebraska were constituted Territories 
had, as we have said, left the question of slavery to the attention of the 
territorial legislatures alone. Slaveholders and politicians of the South 
determined that, in Kansas at least, the legislature should recognize 
slavery as a lawful institution. In order that the legislature might be 
controlled, it was essential that Kansas should be settled by slave-owners, 
or, at least, believers in slavery. Hardly had the bill become a law when 
colonizing parties from all parts of the South were on the march for 
Kansas. The people of Missouri were particularly active in this work. 
Dominated by the slave power, this State did not wish to see a free 



6 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



State organized upon her western border. Therefore Missourians were 
untiring in the work of colonization. 

This work of the pro-slavery people had been prosecuted for several 
months before the anti-slavery societies of the North conceived the idea 
of using the same tactics. Once embarked upon this course, however 
they followed it with unflagging zeal, and a stream of emigrants began 
to flow from New England into Kansas. The pro-slavery movement had 
begun first, however, and the first trial of strength between the two 
parties — the election of a delegate to Congress — resulted in the elec- 
tion of the pro-slavery candidate by an enormous majority. 

Of course the victorious party was loud in its boasting, but the 
anti-slavery men were in no wnse cast down. The election upon which 
the existence of slavery within the Territory should depend, was the 
election of a territorial legislature, and this was not to be held until the 
30th of March, four months later. So they plucked up courage, sent 
for reenforcements of voters from New England, and prepared to measure 
their strength with their adversaries again. When the test actually 
occurred a surprising thing happened. 

Thirty days before the election an official census of the Territory 
showed that there were therein 2,905 voters, about equally divided 
between the two parties. No one moving into the Territory after that 
census was legally entitled to vote ; yet when the ballots were counted 
after the election, March 30, 1855, there were found 6,307 v^otes, and 
over three-fourths of them were for the pro-slavery candidates. 

How did it happen? The Missourians had simply taken a very 
audacious method of demonstrating their intention of making Kansas a 
slave State. From Westport and Independence, and the Missouri towns 
near the Kansas border, crowds of Missourians, carrying rifles and bowie- 
knives, had crossed the State line and taken possession of the polling- 
places. Any protest on the part of the election judges was met with a 
display of revolvers and knives that generally proved effectual. At 
Lawrence, Kans., the leader of a gang of Missourians stepped up with 
his ballot. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



"Are you a resident of Kansas?" asked the judge of election. 

" I am," was the unblushing answer. 

"Does your family reside in the Territory?" continued the judge, 
with some increduHty. 

" None of your business ! If you give me any more of your imper- 
tinence I'll knock your head off your shoulders." 

The judge looked at the brawny Missourian, pistol in belt, the hilt 
of a knife protruding from the top of his boot. Behind him were a 
hundred more of the same sort. Evidently discretion was the wisest 
course, and setting the ballot-box out where it would be most conven- 
ient for the Missourians, the judge of elections departed from the 
scene. 

At Bloomington the judges stood guard over the ballot-box, and 
stoutly refused to allow the colonizers to cast a vote. 

" Well, gentlemen," said the leader of the Missourians, " ye can hev 
just five minutes to make up yer minds. At the end of that time you 
resign, or — " and he patted the lock of his rifle significantly. 

When the time expired, there was no need to use the rifle. The 
judges were nowhere to be seen. 

So the first Kansas legislature was elected, — a legislature, of course, 
strongly pro-slavery in its character. But violence and fraud of this 
kind always works the defeat of the cause it is intended to serve, and 
the indignation aroused among all honorable and fair-minded men, by 
this bold act of the Missourians, did much toward making Kansas ulti- 
mately a free State, 

But for the time it was not safe for any one in Kansas or Missouri 
to condemn the high-handed lawlessness by which the election was 
carried. A Missouri editor who rashly condemned the proceedings 
saw the entire equipment of his newspaper oflice thrown into the 
Missouri river by an enraged mob. A Kansas lawyer, active in pro- 
testing, was seized by a mob, coated with tar and feathers, carried 
through the streets of Leavenworth on a rail, and finally sold at a 
public mock auction, a negro slave acting as auctioneer. 



BATl^LE FIELDS OF '6i. 



Nevertheless, mob law never yet accomplished a political victory, 
and Kansas became a free State, after all. 

It is not necessary here to tell the stor}' of the long struggle for 
Kansas : how New England immigrants came pouring in by thousands, 
well furnished with Sharps' rifles, and but meagrely provided with 
ploughs and hoes. The Missourians had thrown down the gauntlet. 
New England took it up. From literary Boston one hundred cases, 
marked " books," were sent to certain prominent free-State men of 
Lawrence, Kans. When opened, the library was found to consist of 
Sharps' rifles only. From New Haven came seventy-nine trusty men, 
whose stock in trade was " Bibles and loaded carbines." Collisions be- 
tween the antagonistic parties soon became frequent, and the struggle for 
supremacy in Kansas took on the proportions of a war. 

To tell in detail the events of the war for Kansas : how now the 
free-State and now the pro-slavery party was in the ascendancy ; how, 
one after the other, the territorial governors sent out to govern the 
Territory failed in their eff'orts to preserve order ; how men were 
murdered in cold blood or shot down in hot fight, — all this would 
require a volume to itself, and has but a remote bearing upon the 
subject of this book. But as some of the leading events of the Kansas 
war are pertinent to the narrative of the civil war, as showing how 
bitter was the struggle over the existence of slavery, even ten years 
before a single statesman, or newspaper of note, dared to demand its 
entire abolition, they may be briefly touched upon here. 

For some time after the election a kind of armed peace rested 
upon Kansas. The territorial legislature adopted a constitution and 
enacted statutes in which the slavery question was evaded with extreme 
neatness. Then both parties rested on their arms, and each waited for 
the other to make the first move. The importation of Sharps' rifles 
was in no way checked, and the Missourians still paid friendly visits to 
the Territory when any question of importance was to be settled at the 
polls. That beneath the calm surface there raged the fires of partisan 
hatred was occasionally shown. Thu^, at Atchison, a clergyman, an 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 9 

outspoken abolitionist, was taken from his house by a mob, dragged 
to the Missouri river, there placed on a raft and sent drifting down 
that turbid stream with the curses of a pro-slavery mob, and a warning 
not to return, under penalty of death ringing in his ears. He did come 
back, despite the warning, and, though his life was spared, was escorted 
out of town for the second time, this time clad in a coat of tar and 
feathers. 

Soon after, a sheriff of strong pro-slavery beliefs had occasion to 
arrest a free-State man. Before getting his prisoner to jail he was 
stopped by an armed party of free-State men and the prisoner lib- 
erated. The Missourians thereupon poured over the border to help a 
Kansas sheriff enforce the laws. The town of Lawrence, a very head- 
centre of the free-State movement, was besieged. The people of the 
town rallied to its defence, shouldered their rifles, and spent days and 
nights in the trenches. An immense amount of parleying was done, 
but no fighting; and, after the two hostile parties had doggedly con- 
fronted each other for four days, a storm of snow and sleet drove 
the Missourians home. But the siege of Lawrence should be ever 
memorable, for there first appeared, as a public advocate of immediate 
and uncompromising warfare upon slavery, that inscrutable character, 
half madman, half seer, John Brown. 

An uncompromising foe to slavery was old John Brown. While 
others fought to make Kansas a free State, he fought only for the 
total abolition of slavery in all parts of the United States. A stern, 
hard nature was his ; all warrior, with none of the arts of the poli- 
tician. Stood a stone wall in his path, he would go through or over 
it; the idea of getting around an obstacle never occurred to him. 
He came to Kansas, not as a settler seeking a home, but as a self- 
appointed crusader, to begin there that struggle against slavery which 
culminated in his measuring his single-handed strength against the 
power of the United States, and paying for his rashness upon the 
scaffold. 

John Brown was a believer in fighting fire with fire. His remedy 



10 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



for the violence existiiiL; in Kansas was, more violence. If the pro- 
slaven' men terrorized the anti-slaver\' settlers, his advice to the injured 
part}' was to get down their carbines and send their persecutors out 
of the world. In later days this sword-wielding Puritan has been 
exalted on high as a martyr and saint ; but it is hard to read the 
account of his first exploit without feeling that, though in his war 
upon slaver}' he was enlisted in a good cause, the methods he pursued 
were enough to have made the cause odious. 

In May, 1856, word reached John Brown that certain pro-slavery 
people, in the vicinit}' known as Dutch Henry's Crossing, were 
intimidating free-State men and forcing them to leave the country. 
No violence had been done, though threats were freely used. In fact, 
the pro-slaver}' men were employing the same tactics toward the free- 
State men that John Brown, and his son of the same name, had freely 
used in their operations against the men arrayed upon the side of 
slavery. But for some reason this news seemed to work strangely 
upon Brown, and aroused all the fanaticism in his nature. 

Hastily organizing a party of eight men, all but two of whom 
were members of his own household, Brown armed them with swords 
and cutlasses. 

" It is time these outrages were stopped," said he ; "I shall make 
an example of those fellows." 

With this vague declaration of his intentions, he led his party to 
the neighborhood of Dutch Henry's Crossing. Then, stopping by night 
in the dark woods that fringed the banks of the Pottawatomie, he 
unfolded his plan. This was nothing less than to raid up and down 
the banks of the creek, murdering all settlers who were suspected of 
sympathy with the cause of slavery. 

But against this bloody programme his followers rebelled. For hours 
Brown harangued, argued, and pleaded wMth them. He declared that 
it had been foreordained by God that he should perform the deed. 
He quoted the Scriptures to prove that in thus shedding the blood 
of innocent men the}' were onl}' acting in accordance with eternal 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. H 



teachings. The men's scruples, at first strong, gradually gave way, and 
when the sun rose the plan for the ghastly deed was fully matured. 

Not until night did Brown and his followers leave the concealment 
of the thicket. Then, silently stealing forth, they turned their horses' 
heads towards the cabin of the nearest settler marked for execution. 
One man advanced and rapped on the door, as though a guest 
requesting entrance. No answer was returned, and, after knocking again, 
the raiders went away without forcing their way in. " The cabin 
seemed to be empty," said one of them later, " though I thought I 
heard somebody cock a rifle inside." 

Then on, up the lonely road, along by the fields which the young 
grain was just clothing in vernal green, and through the woods fresh 
with spring-time verdure. 

A light shows dimly through the window of a little cabin standing 
back from the road. The leader pulls up. 

"This is the next one," says he hoarsely, and all alight. 

This time the door flies open at the knock. A flood of light 
pours out upon the black night. The man in the open door-way 
starts back in surprise, seeing the armed figures that confront him. In 
a moment he is seized, dragged away from his cabin door and hacked 
to pieces by the sharp cutlasses of Brown's men. A pistol-shot would 
be more merciful, but the sound would alarm the other victims, still 
sleeping unsuspecting in their homes, a little further on. So the heavy 
blows fall upon the unhappy wretch, and, almost before his wife and 
children can realize the sorrow that has come upon them, he lies a 
bleeding, lifeless form before his door-way. 

" In the name of the Northern army," shouts Brown, as he mounts 
his horse and gallops oft" to seek another victim. 

And so on, from house to house, until five men had been foulK' 
murdered and five households made desolate. These were the mur- 
ders of Dutch Henry's Crossing, and this was the way in which John 
Broun thought the cause of freedom might best be served. 

The news soon spread far and wide. Abolitionists were horrified. 



12 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

Pro-slavery men were infuriated. A party of Missourians set out breath- 
ing vengeance upon John Brown, and seeking his capture. He reen- 
forced himself, out-manoeuvred his pursuers and captured them. A 
company of United States regular troops at this juncture appeared 
upon the scene and dispersed both capturers and captured. A larger 
party of Missourians, bent upon the same errand, was ordered out of 
Kansas by the United States troops, and obeyed, but on its way to 
the State line it made a detour, captured and pillaged Brown's village 
of Ossawatomie, and would have burned it had not the Federal troops 
put in a timely appearance. 

Justice moved with a leaden heel in Kansas in those days. Before 
an indictment was found against Brown or his followers, before they 
could be captured, the Missourians and the pro-slavery Kansans, in their 
eagerness to avenge the massacre of their comrades, had committed such 
excesses that the massacre of Dutch Henry's Crossing was either wholly 
forgotten, or looked back upon as an act of war, and not of murder. 
Neither Brown nor any one of his companions was ever brought before 
a judicial tribunal to answer for those five midnight murders. Brown's 
act was that of a monomaniac. Brooding ever upon the wrongs of the 
slave, and seeing how fruitless had been every attempt to peacefully 
settle the point at issue between the factions, he thought to solve the 
question b\- recourse to the sword. The cause which enlisted his ill- 
advised energy is worthy of all reverence ; but let us turn from the 
indiscriminate eulogy of the John Brown who died for the slave at 
Harper's Ferry, to consider the John Brown who dragged Kansas settlers 
from their humble cabins, and before the eyes of their wives and chil- 
dren hewed them down like cattle, with the sword. Such a deed of 
deviltry can be excused by no plea. Brown's guilt can be palliated 
only by the charitable supposition that he was insane. 

The massacre at Dutch Henry's Crossing was but the beginning 
of the struggle in Kansas. Not until 1857 did the pro-slavery men 
give up the contest, and even after that time the fray broke out from 
time to time. But during the year that followed Brown's bloody deed 




Page 13. — Rattle fields of '61. 

MASSACRE AT DUTCH HENRYS CROSSING. 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. l", 

towns were sacked and burned, pitched battles fought, prisoners massa- 
cred, and settlers driven from the country. The law was wholly set at 
naught. Government there appeared to be none. Governor Shannon, 
who fled from the country in fear of his life, once exclaimed, in later 
life, "Govern the Kansas of 1855-56, — you might as well have 
attempted to govern the devil in hell ! " 

So much for the manner in which the slavery troubles rent Kansas 
in twain, and set neighbors on to shed each others' blood. We shall 
now see how the strife born in Kansas spread abroad over the entire 
land, and how after the fires of factional hatred had been quenched 
in Kansas, they broke out still more fiercel}' in the States along the 
Atlantic seaboard. 

First and greatest of the causes of irritation between the slave and 
free States was the Fugitive Slave Law. This was an act of Congress 
passed in 1850, which made it imperative for the authorities of a free 
State to return to their masters any slaves who should have escaped and 
sought shelter within the boundaries of a commonwealth in which slavery 
was illegal. Moreover, this act declared it a crime for any one to assist 
a slave to escape. 

Hardly had this law been placed upon the statute-books when 
trouble began. Slaves from Kentucky escaping from their masters 
crossed into Ohio. Slaves from Virginia reached Pennsylvania, or States 
even further north. So far from seeking to deliver them up, the people 
gave them shelter, hid them by day, and by night sent them a few 
miles nearer Canada, — the Mecca of the escaping slave. The slave- 
owners called upon the authorities of the Northern States to assist in 
the recover}' of their lost property. " We are not slave-takers," was 
the response ; and the Federal law was ignored, while the free States 
passed laws which impeded the slave-owner in searching for his human 
chattels. In more than one Northern city the populace was infuriated 
by the spectacle of a recaptured slave being taken in shackles back to 
his master. More than once such a spectacle led to a riot and the 
liberation of the neirro. 



16 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



It soon became evident to the sla\e-owners that there existed so 
livel}' an antipathy to the institution of slavery among the people of the 
free States, that a slave had but to cross the State line in order to be 
assured of aid in securing his freedom. The Fugitive Slave Law was a 
dead letter, and the " Underground Railway," as the systematized 
cooperation with escaping slaves was called, was in full operation. 
Then cried the slave-owners, " If the laws of the Union cannot pro- 
tect our property, let the Union be dissolved, and we will form for 
ourselves a government capable of affording us protection." 

Nor did the cry for the dissolution of the Union come altogether 
from the South. In the North most of the people had no desire to 
interfere with the existence of slavery in those States wherein it was 
already established. The creation of new slave States they vehemently 
opposed, and they stubbornl}' refused to aid slave-owners in recovering 
their lost property ; but beyond this their hostility to slaver)' did not 
go. There were, however, in the North a few men of strong convic- 
tions, extraordinary intellectual ability, and vast energy, who held that 
slavery should be abolished in all parts of the United States. More 
by virtue of their uncompromising activity and their fearless orator}-, 
than by their numerical strength, these men had made themselves and 
their doctrine the dread of the Southern slave-holder. And as the 
slave-holder demanded that the Union should be dissolved because its 
laws did not sufficiently protect slavery, so these abolitionists insisted 
that the Union should be dissolved because it recognized slaver)' as a 
legal institution within certain geographical bounds. 

Here we have all the conditions necessary for a fierce outbreak. 
In the South an army of slave-holders, convinced that their prosperity 
was dependent upon the existence of slavery ; in the North the great 
body of the people quietl)^ hostile to slavery, though not seeking to 
accomplish its overthrow, and behind this mass of the people a score 
or more of uncompromising abolitionists, printing anti-slaver)' news- 
papers, haranguing anti-slavery meetings, writing anti-slavery books, and 
losing no opportunity to help a slave to run away or to incite others 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. yj 



to the same work. Naturally the people of the South thought that 
the abolitionists represented the opinion of all the Northern people, and 
it needed onl}' slight provocation to arouse their already open resent- 
ment to vindictive retaliation. 

The spark which was to touch off this mine was supplied b}' that 
firebrand of Kansas, John Brown. 

Kansas no longer offered a field for Brown's peculiar energies. The 
question of slavery had been settled there once for all, by the 
overwhelming victory of the free-State party. P'or Brown, however, the 
cause in which he had already seen the life's blood of two of his sons 
shed was not settled b}' the victory in Kansas. Nothing less than the 
complete and immediate abolition of slavery throughout the United 
States would satisfy him, and with his characteristic scorn of political 
methods, and complete indifference to the odds against him, he set 
about the task of crushing slavery, alone and with the sword. 

The preparations for the first blow were quietl)' made. Brown left 
Kansas, hired a small farm in Virginia, near Harper's Ferry, and there 
settled down, seemingly to lead the quiet life of a farmer. Observing 
neighbors, however, might have noticed that Brown's fields were little 
tilled, and that by day his farm wagon was kept bus}' in dragging heavy 
boxes from the nearest railwa}' station to his house. Few inquiries were 
made, for Brown's manner was stern and repellant, and people were slow 
to become intimate with him. But had any inquisitive neighbor persist- 
entl}' pushed his investigations into the mysterious freight which was 
continually received at Brown's farm, he would have found that the 
boxes contained Sharps' rifles, revolvers, and cutlasses, — a species of 
agricultural implement with the use of which John Brown had become 
quite familiar during the storm\- days in' Kansas. 

The mind of this strange old man — a mind shrewd and sound 
enough upon all questions save one — was now working upon a plan for 
striking slavery a blow which should cripple it, if not, indeed, immedi- 
ately put an end to it for all time. It was an absurd plan. — a plan 
which could only have been conceived by a maniac ; a plan which was 



IS BATTLK FIELDS ()F '6i. 

based upon a cc)ni])lctc inisundcrstaiulinL; of the character of the people 
who it was intended should cooperate in this effort to secure their 
freedom ; a plan the success of which was only possible in case the 
authorities of the United States should jjrove incompetent to put down 
a petty uprising. 

What, then, was the enterprise upon which old John Brown, of 
Ossawatomie, was about to embark? 

Briefly summarized, it was a plan to incite the negro slaves to rise 
against their masters, to furnish the insurgents with arms and with 
white leaders; and finally, if the United States government should throw 
its power in the scale with the masters. Brown proposed to lead a rebel- 
lion against the government, and establish a commonwealth in which the 
white man and the black should enjoy equal political rights. 

And all this he proposed to accomplish with a few^ rifles and a 
hantlful of men ! 

Ik^fore taking his little farm in Virginia, Brown had carefully 
matured his j)lans. In the little village of Harper's Ferry, set down on 
the Virginia side of the Potomac river just wliere that noble stream forces 
its way through the rocky fastnesses of the Alleghany mountains, was 
a United States arsenal, well stored with rifles, cutlasses, cannon, and all 
the munitions of war. To seize this armory, to hold the town by force 
of arms, to send the news far and wide across slave-holding Virginia, 
that slaves could find arms and leaders ready for them at Harper's 
Ferr}-, — these were the primary features of Brown's great project, and 
these he carried out. But in the expectation that the slaves would flock 
to his banner he was most cruelly deceived. 

With this project in his mind Brown rented his little farm on 
the liills above Harper's h'erry. and began getting together his arms 
and the men to wield them. B)- the time eighteen men had gath- 
ered there his impatience for immediate action woukl brook no further 
delay. Moreover, the people in that tpiiet jjlace were becoming 
curious as to the meaning of this force of armed men at Old Brown's 
farm; so, on the i6th of October, i'S59, Jolm Brown shouldered his 



BATTLK FIELDS OF Y,i. 19 

musket and led his little troop of seventeen men down into Harper's 
I'Y'rry. 

Of course at the outset he met only success. The people of the 
little village had no idea that grim-visagcd war was at their very doors, 
that calm Sabbath evening. Few citizens were on the streets. The 
marauders reached the arsenal almost unmolested, though on the way they 
shot down one negro slave who refused to join them. It is worthy of 
note that thus early in the history of Brown's raid appears that clement 
which led to the complete downfall of his hopes and plans, i.e., the 
naturally peaceful and law-abiding disposition of the negro, which made 
him unwilling to join in any violence, even when the purpose of that 
violence was to secure his own freedom. So it happened that the first 
negro whom Brown sought to win over to his side refused, and laid 
down his life in the refusal. Indeed, the few slaves who joined Brown 
after the raid was begun, did so upon compulsion, and not of their own 
volition. 

Meeting but little opposition in their march through the streets of 
the city, Brown and his men reached the arsenal, seized it, and forti- 
fied themselves to meet the attack which they knew would be made 
the day following. 

They had not long to wait. The towns-people, enraged by the auda- 
cious affront, advanced early to the attack. The besieged defended them- 
selves vigorously. The mayor of the city, who was undauntedly leading 
an assault upon the stone engine-house in which the invaders had barri- 
caded themselves, was shot down. After the mayor's death the fight 
slackened for a time. Brown sent out a party to cut the telegraph-wires 
and arouse the slaves. In the latter undertaking, however, they met little 
success ; and Brown realized, when it was too late, that the people he 
had come to free had not the courage to lift a hand or fire a. shot 
to free themselves. By nightfall on the 17th Brown must have seen 
the hopelessness of his position. With his handful of comrades he 
was cooped uj) in a small building not naturally fitted for defence. 
On the hills that surrininded it on all sides, behind trees, stone walls, 



20 HATTLK KlI'lLDS Ol' '(.i 



fences, and ex^erything that could afiford a little shelter, were militia- 
men and citizens, each armed with a rifle, and all intent upon killintjj 
the first man who showetl himself at window or door. A continual 
fusilade was kept up, and one b}' one Brown's men were laid low. 
Once he offered to surrender, but the killini;" of the mayor and of two 
other popular citizens had maddened the towns-people, and they spurned 
the proffered compromise. So the fight continued, a fight with rifles 
at short range, until Tuesda)* morning, when a squad of United States 
marines, sent from Washington to put a speedy end to this petty rebel- 
lion, appeared upon the scene. 

In command of this bod}' of regulars were two United States 
officers, of whom we shall hear much in the course of this book, — 
Col. Robert E. Lee and Lieut. J. E. B. Stuart. 

The appearance of the Federal forces put a speedy end to the 
battle. Wasting no time on long-range rifle practice, the\' charged the 
building in which the insurgents were housed. A ladder was brought 
to the scene, and, wielded by stalwart arms, was used as a battering-ram. 
A warm reception was given them. From window and door rifles were 
levelled, and spat out their spiteful messages of death. Old Brown was 
wounded, one of his sons la}- dead at his feet, and a second, mortall}^ 
wounded, clung to his knee. But the grim old man still cheered on his 
comrades to a gallant, though hopeless, resistance, and loaded and fired 
his own rifle with the calmness of a veteran. At last the door gave wa}" 
before the blows of the attacking party. A volley is fired into the midst 
of the despairing defenders. Pistol and cutlass in hand, the marines, led 
by Lee and Stuart, rush in and cut down all who oppose them. Old 
Brown, bleeding from half a dozen ghasth' wounds, is dragged out. Ten 
of his comrades were left dead upon the floor of the engine-house, and 
seven were taken prisoners. All were speedily thrown into jail to await 
their trial for treason. 

The news of this occurrence spread like wildfire over the land. 
Among the abolitionists Brown and his companions were lauded as 
heroes, mart}'rs to a great and undying cause. Among the slave-holders 




rTSjIhui^' 



■"^-^Hs, 



■^^^^■-%^ 






-^-^^ 



■-<«* 



Page 21. — Battle latLos ok 'oi. 



STORMING BROWN'S CASTLE. 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



Brown was looked upon as a typical Northerner. " This," they cried, 
" is what we may expect from the people of the North. They will 
come among us with rifles and with sabres in their hands. They will 
shoot down our citizens in our streets. Thc}^ will incite our slaves to 
rise and murder us. Let us hasten to form for ourselves a govern- 
ment which shall afford us protection against those who now are our 
fellow-countrymen." 

Not even after Brown and his seven comrades had paid, upon the 
scaffold, the penalty of their crime did the slave-holders feel reassured. 
The blow had been too great. The abolitionists had been too outspoken 
in their approval of Brown's course, and too vigorous in their denunciation 
of the court that inflicted upon him the death-penalty, for the slave-holders 
to feel any confidence that similar expeditions would not be organized. 
And so the ill-feeling and jealousy between the two sections was bred 
and fostered, and the talk of dissolving the Union, which in 1857 and 
earlier had been a mere threat uttered b}- discontented parties North and 
South alike, became in 1859 a plan of action discussed in legislative 
assemblies and in mass meetings of the people of the Southern cities. 

John Brown builded far better than he knew. Beyond a doubt 
he marched down into Harper's Ferry that October night thinking that 
to his standard would flock the slaves, and he would lead them through 
bloody strife to freedom. Therein he was most bitterly deceived. But 
his ill-fated expedition stirred the South to a course of action in which 
the North never could acquiesce. His death on the scaffold, too, set 
men thinking of the cause for which he died. And so it happened, 
that though John Brown suffered death in a shameful form, yet the 
cause he loved sprang strengthened from his grave, and his name sur- 
vived to be a watchword upon the lips of the Union soldier as he 
fought the long and hard contested fights which ended in the preser- 
vation of the Union and the abolition of slavery. 

Right well did the poet Stedman warn the men who cried out for 
the execution of John Brown, when the old man lay still suffering from 
his wounds in the jail at Charlestown : — 



24 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



"But, Virginians, don't do it! for I tell you that the flagon 

FUled with blood of Old Brown's offspring was first poured b. Southern hands. 
And each drop fron. Old Brown's life veins, like the red gore of the dragon 
Ma^ spnng up a vengeful Furv. hissing through vour slave-worn lands 
And Old Brown. 
Ossawatoinie Brown. 
May trouble you more than ever when youVe nailed his coffin down." 





CHAPTER II, 



THE POLITICAL STRUGGLE. NOMINATIONS FOR PRESIDENT. ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

ELECTED. THE SECESSION OF SOUTH CAROLINA. SEIZURE OF FEDERAL FORTS. 

LIEUTENANT SLEMMER SAVES FORT PICKENS. SECRETAR^' DIX AND THE 

AMERICAN FLA(;. 




HESE, then, were the causes that were operating to destroy 
the Union, and when the year i860 came in, the move- 
ment had taken shape, and thoughtful people began to see 
l that a long and bitter conflict between the two sections 
was inevitable. This was a year of political activity. Before appealing 
to the sword the South was to make a last attempt to maintain its 
supremacy by the ballot. And so, though the cry of secession was 
heard in the public places of more than one Southern State during the 
year, yet the South put a presidential candidate in the field, and 
awaited the result of the election before taking any active steps toward 
the dissolution of the Union. 

James Buchanan, the fifteenth president of the United States, then 
occupied the White House. He had been raised to office by the vote 



2(3 BATTLE FIKLUS OF 'Ot. 



of the Democratic part}-, the party with which the people of the South 
were almost universally in accord, and which, in the election of 1856, 
had shown itself an irresistible force in national politics. But when a 
successor to Buchanan came to be chosen, it became evident that this 
great party was split in two, divided against itself And the rock 
upon which it had split was slavery. The Democratic party had been 
a national party, though in its councils the South had hitherto been 
the controlling element. But in April, i860, when the national con- 
\ention of the party met in Charleston, the demands of the Southern 
delegates for a recognition of slavery by the party were so extreme, 
that, after several days of wrangling, the convention adjourned in an 
uproar, without having made any nominations, each faction agreeing 
to meet later, and put its nominations in the field. 

In May the national convention of the then young Republican 
party met at Chicago, and nominated Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, for 
the presidency. In its platform this party declared that the national 
Congress should prohibit the establishment of slavery in the Territories. 

June 23 the Northern Democratic National Convention met at Balti- 
more, and nominated Stephen A. Douglas, of Illinois, for the presi- 
dency. In its platform this convention declared that the question of 
slavery in the Territories should be left to a vote of the people of 
the Territories, or made subject to the decision of the Supreme Court 
of the United States. 

June 28 the Southern " National Democratic party " assembled in 
convention at Baltimore, and nominated John C. Breckinridge, of Ken- 
tucky, for President. The declaration of this party as to slavery was 
to the effect that neither Congress nor any territorial legislature had 
the right to prohibit slavery in a Territor\-. and that it was the duty 
of the Federal government to protect slaver>- in the Territories whenever 
such protection seemed necessar)'. 

Besides these three candidates for the presidency there was James 
Bell, the candidate of the "Constitutional Union party," — a political 
organization built from the ruins of the old Native American or 



BATTLK FIELDS OF '6i. 



27 



« Know-Nothing" party. The platform of this party evaded the slavery 

issue altogether. 

Here then, were four candidates for the Presidency of the Un.ted 
States The one great issue of the day was the toleration of slavery n, 
the Territories. One party evaded this issue, and it was clear, therefore 
that its candidate was out of the race. The Democratic party, w,th all 
its traditions and tremendous numerical strength, was split m twam. 
At a time when one candidate would need every Democrats vote to 
secure his election, the vote of the party was to be divided between 
two candidates. The young Republican party, born only four years 
before was, on the contrary, strong and lusty. Its platform d.sposed 
of the' slavery question in no uncertain tones. Its leader was a man 
of the people, -no politician with a record of political ch.canery to 
cover up, but a sturdy, sterling son of the soil, an Amer.can w om 
Americans of to-day are proud to call a typical Amer.can. In 860 
Abraham Lincoln was called a strong presidential cand.date. In ,865 
the grandeur of his character was the theme of world-wide eulogy. 

Seeing the party upon which they rehed for the protection of 
slavery thus divided, and the party from which they had everythmg to 
foar so strong and hopeful, the Southern leaders admitted among them- 
selves that the political fight was lost, and, while keeping up a show of 
political activity, were secretly making their preparations for the war by 
which they hoped to regain that which they knew they were dest.n d 
to lose by the balfot. The power was still in their hands, and would 
remain theirs until March 4. .S61, when I'resident Buchanans successor 

would be inaugurated. 

Oct 5 i860, the secession movement was g.ven definite shape by 
Governor Gist, of South Carolina, who sent letters to the S-ernors o 
the so-called cotton States, asking whether their States would jo.n ho th 
Carolina in withdrawing from the Union in the eve.U of I mcolns 
electfon The answers received were not enthusiast.c, but ne.thc, d.d 
the writers show any surprise at the query, nor pronounce ,t rev-olu- 
tionary or treasonable. But by the time the last answer had been 



28 BA'ITLK FIKLDS OF '6i. 



received the election had ended in the overwliehiiini^ victory of Lincoln, 
and the hot-headed South Carolinians had straightway called a con- 
vention for the purpose of declaring their State independent of the 
United States. 

Thenceforth the progress of the secessionists was uninterrupted. 
In Washington a handful of Southern congressmen, senators, and 
government officials held almost daih* meetings to discuss the situation 
and to devise means for making the destruction of the Union speedy 
and certain when the hour for striking the blow should arrive. By 
the orders of the Secretary of War, John B. Floyd, of Virginia, vast 
quantities of arms and munitions of war were withdrawn from the 
United States arsenals in the North, and sent to arsenals in Tennessee 
and Mississippi. The little Federal army, of about twelve thousand 
men, was dispersed in all directions, so that Washington should be left 
defenceless when the hour should arrive for touching off the mine 
which was to blow the American Union to pieces. Many of the 
troops were sent into the Southern States in the expectation that they 
might be induced to give allegiance to the State in which they 
happened to be stationed. In this expectation Floyd was bitterly 
deceived, as was he when he appointed a Kentucky officer, one Robert 
Anderson, to the command of the troops in Charleston harbor, 
thinking that he would, at the first note of battle, cast his lot with the 
Southern States. But of that more anon. 

So with secessionists secretly plotting in Washington, and openly 
making revolutionary speeches in the Southern States, the first month 
after the election of Abraham Lincoln passed away. December came, 
and with it the time for holding the convention called by South 
Carolina to consider the advisability of seceding from the Union. On 
the 17th of the month the delegates assembled at Columbia, but, 
learning that the town was being ravaged by small-pox, speedily 
adjourned to Charleston. There they organized their convention, sat 
two days in secret session, and on the afternoon of December 20 threw 
open the doors of the convention hall, and announced to the crowds 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 29 

standing without, the news that " the Union now subsisting between 
South Carolina and other States, under the name of the United States 
of America, is hereby dissolved." 

Then from the mighty throng assembled before the convention 
hall went up a deafening shout. " The Union is dissolved ! " was the 
cry that, caught up by those on the outskirts of the crowd, was passed 
from one to another until every street in the city rang with the 
chorus. Speedily huge placards, with the text of the secession ordi- 
nance displayed in large letters, appeared upon the bill-boards and 
dead-walls of the town. The bells of the city rang out a paean of 
triumph, loudest among them the chimes of historic St. Michael's. 
Palmetto flags appeared at the windows, and were run up on every 
flag-staff in town. Women paraded the streets wearing " secession 
bonnets." Cannon thundered in the open squares, and all was rejoicing 
and triumph. " The Union is dissolved ! We are independent ! " were 
the words heard on every hand. If any one in that populous city 
thought that the act of the convention was but the signal for a long 
and horrid war, he held his peace. 

That night the convention reassembled, that the members might 
sign the secession ordinance. Back of the speaker's chair hung a huge 
banner, upon which was depicted a graceful arch, built of stones, 
bearing the names of the slave States. At the base of the arch lay 
the fragments of other stones, bearing the names of the Northern States. 
" Built from the Ruins " was the significant legend which gave point 
to this work of art. 

The ordinance was signed with due pomp. A paper giving the 
reasons for the act, and intended to induce the other slave States to 
follow South Carolina, was adopted. Then came the important question 
of a flag. The stars and stripes had been discarded. What should 
take its place? A banner of red silk, bearing a blue cross studded 
with stars, and having in the corners a silver cross and palmetto-tree, 
was chosen. The next morning the new flag was seen upon the 
streets. South Carolina had spurned the Union and its flag. The 



30 BATTLE FIET-DS OF '6i. 



newspapers even went so far as to class news items from the other 
States under the heading of " Foreign News." 

The telegraph-wires between Charleston and the rest of the country 
were kept busy that night, and in the morning people North and South 
read the news in the morning papers. Northern men were amazed and 
grieved, — amazed that the people of South Carolina should believe that 
by a simple resolution the)' could disrupt the Union ; grieved that the 
political differences between the two sections should have come to so 
critical a pass. In the South there was only rejoicing apparent on the 
surface. Bells were rung, cannon fired. Telegrams and resolutions of 
congratulation were sent to Charleston. At every city were the agents 
of the secessionists, and they spared no effort to influence public sen- 
timent in behalf of the movement they represented, and to crush out 
all individual or official resistance to it. 

By this time President Buchanan had become seriously alarmed. 
Until South Carolina had formally declared itself independent of the 
United States, he had been as wax in the hands of his advisers, the 
chief of whom were cabinet officers chosen from among the leaders of 
the Southern wing of the Democratic party, and Southern senators. By 
assuring the President that a policy of conciliation toward the discon- 
tented Southern States might lead to the happiest results, while the 
inevitable result of exercising force to compel them to remain in the 
Union would be to all the more speedily drive them to secession, these 
counsellors had induced the President to sit idly by while the work of 
organizing the forces that should be arrayed against the nation went 
busil)^ on. To this work Mr. Buchanan was blind for a long time, — so 
long, in fact, that when the war fairly burst upon the country many 
people went so far as to charge him with having connived at the plans 
of the conspirators, and aided in their execution. To-day. when the 
heat of part)' hatred has somewhat died away, this charge seems in a 
measure unjust ; but it is not to be denied that he weakl)^ allowed his 
own judgment and authority to be superseded by that of influential 
Southerners in Washington. 



ba'Itlf: fields of '61. 31 



But when South Carolina had passed her ordinance of secession; 
when the people of the other Southern States received the news w,th 
general acclamation, and prepared to follow the example of the 1 almetto 
State- when the populace of Charleston seized the forts that guarded the 
harbor, and began putting them in condition for defence; when the 
Federal flag disappeared from all the cotton States, and strange dev.ces 
of palmettos, and pelicans, and rattlesnakes, and "Lone Stars, and the 
like appeared instead, - when these things happened, President Buchanan 
could no longer be blmd to the fact that the advisers who counselled 
hin. to do nothing were, in fact, in league with the conspirators agamst 

the peace of the Union. 

Turning from his false counsellors, the President sent post-haste for 
the veteran General-in-Chief of the United States army. Winfield Scott. 
The veteran was quickly on the ground. His practised eye qu.ckly 
detected the magnitude of the military preparations of the South. He 
pointed out to the President that in Washington, in the very nat.onal 
capital itself, secession was rampant, and that militia compan.es were 
being organized among the enemies of the government, and that to these 
companies United States arms and ammunition were being .ssued Th.s 
the general soon put an end to; but in his more important plans for 
quelling the risn,g rebellion he was thwarted by the Secretary of War, 
Floyd, who still retained his place, though openly and notoriously m 
sympathy with the enemies of the government. Along the -aboard of 
the Southern States was a chain of forts, built at the expense of the 
national government, but now standing empty or garrisoned only w,th a 
corporal's guard. These forts General Scott wished to fill w.th Pederal 
soldiers, that they might not fall into the hands of the So.ahern forces, 
but Floyd, without whose permission not a soldier could be moved. 

defeated the plan. . . 

But on Dec. 29. .860. Floyd sent to the President h,s res.gnat.on, 
and soon after took his departure from Washington. His place was 
qu,ckly filled with a loyal Kentuckian. Joseph Holt by name; and as 
the old year took out u-ith it the traitorous Floyd and h,s pohcy of 



32 BATIXE FIELDS OF '6i. 



yielding everything, the new year saw the inauguration of that firm 
opposition to the spirit of secession which, after four years of fighting, 
resulted in the establishment of the F'ederal Union upon a firm and 
indestructible foundation. 

Two months still remained of President Buchanan's administration. 
On March 4 Lincoln would be inaugurated. What course he might 
adopt in relation to the growing insurrection none could predict with 
certainty. Of Buchanan's weak and yielding disposition they felt assured, 
so in all parts of the South the leaders strained every nerve to make 
those two months a time of uninterrupted and energetic preparation for 
war. 

As Charleston had been the nest of secession, so it was in Charles- 
ton that the preparations for war were most tremendous. But the 
operations in Charleston harbor possess such historic significance that 
we will defer the consideration of them until the next chapter, in which 
all those events which led up to the fall of Fort Sumter, and the 
bursting of the war-cloud, will be fully detailed. 

But, though Charleston led in the work of breaking up the Union, 
there was no lack of energy in other States. Georgia was first to act. 
Near the mouth of the Savannah river stood two Federal forts, Pulaski 
and Jackson b\' name. Of these the former was a defensive work of no 
mean proportions. Its walls of solid masonry were six feet thick, and 
pierced with embrasures for more than one hundred and tvventy-five 
guns. On the spacious parade within were furnaces for heating shot. 
Six hundred and fifty men was the normal garrison of this fortress, but 
the cunning of Secretary-of-\Var Floyd had left its barracks almost 
empt)-, and the handful of blue-coats quartered there were read}' enough 
to yield to the overwhelming force of Georgia militia that on the 3d 
of January appeared before the sally-port of the fort and demanded its 
immediate surrender. F""ort Jackson was taken possession of the same 
day, and the two were of incalculable benefit to the Confederates in the 
long war that followed. Though the forts were captured in the name of 
the State of Georgia, the State had not then seceded. The formal act 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 33 

of secession followed on the 19th of January, and on the 24th the Gov- 
ernor of Georgia, in person, led the State troops that seized the United 
States arsenal at Augusta, wherein were stored twenty-two thousand 
muskets, some cannon, and a great quantity of powder. 

The day after, the Georgians, by seizing Fort Pulaski, gave evidence 
that their State would stand with the secessionists; Alabama swung into 
line, by seizing the United States arsenal at Mount Vernon ; and the 
next day saw the stars and stripes lowered from the flag-staffs of Forts 
Morgan and Gaines, in Mobile bay, and the State flag of Alabama 
hoisted in its stead. How Farragut wrested these forts from their cap- 
tors we shall tell later on. 

From this time until the ist of March the work of seizing 
United States property went on without interruption in the Southern 
States. Scarcely a day passed without the news being flashed over 
the wires to the North that the Southerners had taken possession of 
some United States fort, arsenal, or military post. Soon, of all that 
chain of fortresses that fringes the coast from Charleston harbor to 
Fort Brown at the mouth of the Rio Grande, but three remained in 
possession of the United States forces : Forts Jefferson and Taylor on 
the Florida keys, and Fort Pickens at the entrance of Pensacola 
harbor. The story of how the last of these forts was saved to the 
United States is worth reading. 

Most important of the three forts was P'ort Pickens. It stood on 
a low-lying neck of land that separates Pensacola bay from the Gulf 
of Mexico, and with its heavy guns commands the entrance to the 
harbor. In January, 1861, it stood untenanted. Silence reigned in its 
gloomy galleries. Weeds grew on the parade within. The great cannon 
were securely housed, and many of the ports were blocked up. Over 
on the main-land, by water a mile and a half from Fort Pickens, 
stood Fort Barrancas, and a mile and a half further up the bay was 
the government navy-yard. Between the two. in 1 861. stood the long 
frame buildings known as Barrancas Barracks, and there was stationed 
one company of United States artillery. In command was First Lieut. 



34 B.vrri.i': fiklds of '6i. 



Adam J. Slemmer, an officer who needed but an opportunity to show 
that he had in him the stuff of which heroes are made. 

We are told often by miHtar\- writers that he is the best soldier 
who is content to give unreasoning obedience to his superiors, letting 
them think for him, and never going beyond his orders or exceeding 
his authority. It was fortunate for the United States that it had in its 
army, in i86i, a few officers not wholly of this stamp, but men able 
to think for themselves, and daring to act upon their own authority. 
Major Robert Anderson was one such, and Lieutenant Adam J. Slemmer 
was another. The exploits of the two men were much alike, and, 
though Anderson has received the lion's share of fame, Slemmer's 
pluck and quick decision should never be forgotten. 

With his handful of men, in a locality that was fairly infested 
with secession sentiment, surrounded on every hand by government 
property, worth millions of dollars, which it was his duty to protect, 
Slemmer anxiously watched the progress of events, which seemed daily 
to make his situation more precarious. At the navy-yard was a 
detachment of marines, whose duty it was, equally with the soldiers, 
to see that the government property was protected. But the officers 
in command of the navy-yard were strongly Southern in their 
sympathies, and Slemmer soon learned that from them he could expect 
only a half-hearted support at most. So when the news came to him 
that the State forces had seized United States forts at Savannah and 
Mobile, he straightway set about guarding against any like proceeding 
in Pensacola bay. 

His first act was to put an armed guard in possession of Fort 
Barrancas, which had stood empty. It was done none too soon. The 
very night that the guard was set, a party of secessionists marched over 
from a neighboring village to take possession of the fort, thinking it 
still empty. The sharp challenge of the sentry disconcerted the 
assailants, but they thought to ignore his authority, and after a 
moment's halt moved forward. The guard thereupon let fly a shot at 
the leader, which aroused the garrison ; the drums beat the long roll, 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



and the startled Southerners, finding that they had to do with disci- 
plined and determined soldiery, turned about and fled for dear life. 

This was enough to convince Slemmer that the people of the 
vicinity were preparing to seize the forts, and that he must speedily 
make preparations for defence, to preserve to the government any of 
its property. Fort Barrancas, being on the main-land, could hardly be 
held by a force so small as that under his command, but Fort 
Pickens stood unoccupied, and thither he determined to move his 
troops. The first thing was to find transports in which to ferry his 
command across the mile and a half of water which separated Fort 
Pickens from the main-land. Early in the morning Slemmer visited 
the navy-yard to beg for aid. Fair promises were given him, but no 
boats appeared, and he had to wait twenty-four hours, and make 
appeal after appeal before the half-hearted officer in command at the 
navy-yard sent the needed vessels. 

Once in Pickens, the soldiers speedily set to work to put the 
fort in condition for defence. Many embrasures were closed with 
bricks and mortar. The great guns were loaded with grape and 
canister, and so trained as to do havoc in the ranks of a storming 
party. While they were thus at work they saw the United States flag 
fall from the flag-staff at the navy-yard, and knew that the yard had 
been tamely surrendered. There was no flag-staff in the fort; but when 
Slemmer and his comrades saw this they made haste to hang out a 
flag over the bastion, that the insurgents might see that the Federal 
government still had brave defenders in Pensacola harbor. 

Great was the rage of the insurgents when they saw that Slemmer 
had taken possession of Fort Pickens. Without delay they sent off a 
party to summon him, "in the name of the governors of Florida and 
Alabama," to surrender the fort. 

" I am a soldier of the United States," was Slemmer's cool reply, 
" and I know nothing of the governors of Florida and Alabama. The>- 

are nothing to me." 

And so that embassy returned to Pensacola discomfited. 



36 BATTLE FIKLDS OF '6i. 



A week later appeared another fla^^^ of truce. This time the 
bearers were two officers who had resit^ned from the United States 
arm}- and navy to cast their lot with the South. One of them had 
supervised the building of Fort Pickens, and expressed some surprise 
when Slemmer met him on the sands before the sally-port and declined 
to admit the visitors to the fort. They came to demand the surrender 
of the work, and brought with them a written communication to that 
effect, which Colonel Chase, the elder officer, proceeded to read. 
But his voice soon became shaky, and his eyes filled with tears, as 
he thought that he now stood as an enemy before two officers of the 
arm}' in which he once had held an honored station. Stamping his foot 
with vexation, he handed the paper to his colleague, saying. " Here, 
Farrand, you read it." But Captain Farrand was equally affected, and, 
with the remark that he had not his glasses, handed the paper on to 
Lieutenant Oilman, saying. "You have good eyes; read it for us." 
And so it happened that the summons to surrender was read aloud 
by one of the men to whom it was addressed. 

This demand, like the first. Slemmer refused, and the two officers 
retired, warning him that Florida and Alabama would never allow the 
United States to hold Fort Pickens, and that the place should be 
taken by storm, even though it took a thousand lives to carr}^ it. 
Nevertheless, their threats proved to be mere empty words ; for Slem- 
mer held Fort Pickens, undisturbed, until reenforced in April. Never 
throughout the long war did the United States lose the fort, and it 
proved of inestimable \alue as a station, and as an aid to the main- 
tenance of the blockade. 

One other incident of the early days of the uprising in the 
South deserves mention before we pass on to the story of actual 
war. 

Louisiana was one oi' the States that earl\- \-oted to leave the 
Union. New Orleans was a veritable fountain-head of secession. Even 
before the State seceded, the New Orleans militia went down the 
Mississippi river on steamers and took possession of Forts St. Philip 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 37 

and Jackson, two low, squat structures of brick that guard the mouth 
of the great river. 

At the levee in New Orleans, on the 29th of January, 1861, lay 
the United States revenue cutter " McClelland," in command of Captain 
Breshwood. Louisiana had just gone out of the Union. Secession 
sentiment ran high in the streets of the Crescent city, yet this vessel 
lay there an easy prey to the secessionists. A special agent of the 
Treasury Department, sent South to look up just such cases, went 
to Captain Breshwood, and gave him an order from the Secretary of the 
Treasury to take the vessel to New York. Breshwood refused. By 
telegraph Secretary Dix was speedily notified, and instantly sent back 
word : — 

"Tell Lieutenant Caldw^l to arrest Captain Breshwood, assume 
command of the cutter, and obey the order through you. If Captain 
Breshwood, after arrest, undertakes to interfere with the command of 
the cutter, tell Lieutenant Caldwell to consider him a mutineer, and 
treat him accordingly. If any one attempts to haul down the American 
flag, shoot him on the spot." 

The telegram never reached the agent to whom it was sent. 
But in the Northern newspapers it soon appeared, and the loyal ring 
of the closing words gave spirit and determination to many a heart 
that had faltered when so many trusted officers of the government 
had shown themselves faithless to their trust. 





CHAPTER III. 

IN CHARLESTON HARBOR. DEFENCES OF THE PORT. MAJOR .ANDERSON IN FORT 

MOULTRIE. GROWING HOSTILITY OF THE PEOPLE OF CHARLESTON. ANDERSON 

REMOVES TO FORT SUMTER. SECESSIONISTS SEIZE THE OTHER FORTS. SECESSION- 
ISTS FIRE UPON THE "STAR OF THE WEST." ANDERSON SUMMONED TO SURRENDER. 

BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. CAPITULATION, AND EVACUATION OF THE FORT. 




UT while such outbursts of rebellion as those described in 
the last chapter drew the attention of the people, now to 
New Orleans, again to Pensacola or Mobile, it was upon 
Charleston harbor that the anxious solicitude of all who 
hoped for peace was concentrated. There occurred the stirring incidents 
that really marked the beginning of the Civil War. As Lexington 
and Concord were to the American Revolution, so were Charleston 
harbor and Fort Sumter to the war between the States. 

Charleston, in i860, was a thriving city; the chief seaport of a 
fertile and prosperous State, and one of the chief points for shipping 
the slave-grown cotton of the South. Its streets were wide, well paved, 
shaded by fine trees, and lined with substantial 43uildings. Its people 

3« 



BA^ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 39 

were refined, hospitable, warm in their sympathies, and hot and unreason- 
ing in their prejudices. South Carohna, Hke all the Southern States at 
that time, possessed a government which was Democratic only in name. 
Wealth and family influence were the only roads to power, and a few 
men controlled the destiny of the States as completely as though the 
government was an hereditary monarchy, and they members of the 
reigning family. 

The city of Charleston, in its site and geographical peculiarities, 
is not unlike New York. The city is built on a narrow neck of land, 
flanked on either side by a river. Before it stretches out a noble 
harbor, narrowing slightly at its mouth. As was the case with most 
Southern seaports, elaborate preparations had been made by the United 
States government for the defence of Charleston in case of attack by 
a foreign invader. Four military works guarded the harbor; namely, 
Castle Pinckney, Fort Johnson, Fort Moultrie, and Fort Sumter. 

The first two were of no value against modern artillery. Castle 
Pinckney is an old-fashioned brick fort, with a circular front facing 
the harbor. It stands on a small island near the water-front of the 
city. In i860 it mounted a few smooth-bore cannon on the topmost 
tier, and had a small quantity of ammunition stored away in its 
magazine. Its garrison consisted of one man. Fort Johnson was a 
relic of the Revolutionary War. It stood on an isthmus, near the 
mouth of the harbor, and was neither garrisoned nor armed. 

Moultrie and Sumter were defensive works of no mean strength. 
The latter was an enormous mass of masonry, built upon and wholly 
covering a small island directly in the entrance to the harbor. It was 
planned for three tiers of guns, but ^the embrasures for the second 
tier were unfinished ; the barracks and storehouses within the ramparts 
too were still unfinished, and the parade was littered with building- 
materials, shot, shell, dismounted cannon, gun-carriages, derricks, blocks, 
and coils of rope. As this fort had never been completed, it had 
never, up to a certain eventful day in i860, been garrisoned. 

The fourth of the defences of Charleston, and the only one kept 



40 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



regularly garrisoned by United States troops, was Fort Moultrie. It 
stood on historic ground, near the site of the famous old palmetto 
fort, from the ramparts of which the gallant Sergeant Jasper waved the 
flag of the thirteen rebellious colonies when it was shot away by a 
cannon-ball from a British ship, in the brave days of the Revolution. 
The fort that stood on this spot in i860 was no very formidable 
structure. Its seaward front, which was finished, was built of double 
walls of brick, filled in between with sand. As a water-battery it was 
formidable, for its heavy guns commanded the main channel; but it 
would have been but an easy prey for a storming party, since the 
storms had so blown and piled the sand up against its ramparts that 
even wandering cows had been known to placidly make their way over 
walls that should have frowned back determined men. 

In Fort Moultrie, in the year i860, were stationed all the United 
States troops that were supposed to be necessary for the protection of 
the government property in Charleston harbor. These troops consisted 
of two skeleton companies of artillery and a band ; in all, sixty-five men. 
The proper complement for Fort Moultrie alone was three hundred men; 
to properly man the four forts that line the harbor, one thousand would 
scarcely have sufficed. But no foreign foe was expected; few people 
thought that the growing estrangement between the North and South 
would lead to war, and so the handful of blue-coats were left to do 
what they could in Charleston harbor. 

The station at Fort Moultrie had long been considered rather a 
pleasant one by army officers. It was near to Charleston, and in summer 
the fort was a favorite resort for the city folks. But as the year i860 
began to grow old, the officers and soldiers at the fort found their 
popularity waning. They had been there three years. All had pleasant 
friends, and many had relatives among the people of the city; but as the 
hatred of the Union began to spread among the South Carolinians they 
began to look with suspicion upon the soldiers, and regard them in the 
light of possible enemies. In November the old colonel who had long 
been in command at Fort Moultrie was relieved by order of the 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 41 

Secretary of War, and a new man, one Major Robert Anderson, of 
Kentucky, put in command in his stead. His coming renewed the 
friendship of the towns-people for the soldiery. It was freely said on the 
streets that the former commander. Colonel Gardner, had been relieved 
because he had been too active in putting the fort in proper condition for 
defence. Major Anderson, on the contrary, had been put in command 
because he was a Southerner by birth, was a slave-owner himself, and 
was little likely to oppose any movement on the part of the people to 
take possession of the forts. So for a time Major Anderson enjoyed 
great popularity in Charleston. 

But before long the secessionists began to think that they had 
mistaken their man. This slave-owning major seemed to show as much 
zeal in his preparations for the protection of the United States property 
as had his predecessor. He began digging away the sand before the 
bastions of Fort Moultrie. He bricked up embrasures that would have 
been easy entrance-places for conspirators. Heavy wooden gates blocked 
the pathway of pleasure-seekers from Charleston, and the man who sought 
entrance to Fort Moultrie had to painfully clamber in through a small 
man-hole. Worse than all (and of this the secessionists were well 
informed by their agents in Washington), Major Anderson began writing 
to the Secretary of War letters declaring that the South Carolinians were 
preparing to seize these forts, and begging that reenforcements might be 
sent him. He warned the war office at Washington that troops were 
drilling in the streets of Charleston, that cannon had already been seized, 
that the people spoke of the forts as being in their possession, and that 
unless reenforced he would be compelled to surrender at the first 
demand. But Secretary Floyd refused to send the reenforcements, saying 
that to do so would be an act of war. 

So December came in. Anderson, with his handful of men, still 
occupied Fort Moultrie. The spirit of disunion was daily growing 
stronger in the streets of Charleston. A convention had been called to 
decide whether South Carolina should stay in the Union or go out of it. 
The Charleston newspapers were filled with abuse of the Union authori- 



42 BATll.K FIELDS OF '6i. 

ties. Calls for the meeting of companies of militia filled their columns. 
Now and then appeared an allusion to Anderson and his work on 
Fort Moultrie. Thus, when he caused a sort of cJievajix-de-frise to be 
placed on the top of the ramparts, the " Charleston Mercury " cried out, 
" Make ready your sharpened stakes, but \'ou will not intimidate free 
men." One da}- an officer, with a few soldiers, was sent to the United 
States arsenal in the city to get some friction primers and a little ammu- 
nition. The army uniforms attracted the notice of the people, a mob 
formed in the streets, and the party was driven back. Then it was 
rumored that the South Carolinians would no longer delay their purpose 
of seizing the forts. Overlooking the ramparts of Fort Moultrie were a 
number of tall frame-houses. These, it was said, were to be seized and 
filled with sharp-shooters, who, from the windows in the upper stories, 
could at their ease pick oft' the soldiers within the fort. Anderson early 
heard of this plot, but feared to burn down the houses, as suggested by 
one of his officers, because to do so would be an act of war, and would 
bring on at once the storm which he still hoped was not inevitable. 

While all this was going on at Charleston, the statesmen at Wash- 
ington were wrangling over questions of States-rights, coercion, and the 
like, and leaving the malcontents at the South free to la}' their plans 
for the trapping of every United States soldier who might be stationed 
south of Mason and Dixon's line. General Scott, who had come to the 
capital at the President's request, begged to be allowed to send troops 
to Sumter, and to every other fort on the Southern sea-coast ; but the 
wily Floyd successfully opposed this wish. Had the gallant old soldier 
had his way, the uprising in the South would have been short-lived, or 
possibh' prevented altogether. 

At last, finding that his repeated appeals for reenforcements and 
supplies brought no response from Washington, Anderson determined to 
act for himself. He was a soldier. He proposed to play a soldier's part, 
and let the politicians settle the problems of statesmanship as best they 
might. When the South Carolinians passed the ordinance of secession, 
he knew that before man}- days passed his little force would have a foe 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 43 



marshalled against it. Behind the low walls his sixty-five men would be 
no match for the thousands that would be led to the assault. It took 
but a moment for Anderson to decide that he had either to abandon 
Fort Moultrie or tamely surrender it at the first demand. 

From the windows of his quarters in Fort Moultrie Major Anderson 
could see Fort Sumter rising dark and sullen, like some rocky crag 
straight from the waters of the bay. About it on every side the tides 
rushed in their daily ebb and flow. On three sides not a foothold could 
be secured at the bace of the massive brick walls ; the fourth side was 
fronted with an esplanade, which cannon, in the flanking towers, could 
sweep clean with grape, should any enemy secure a lodgement thereon. 
The nearest point of land on which the enemy could erect batteries was 
more than a mile away. " Once in Sumter," mused the major, " my 
command could hold an enemy at bay until those speech-making fellows 
up at Washington can determine whether I am to be reenforced, or left 
to be starved into surrender." 

Straightway he wrote to Washington asking permission to transfer 
his command to Fort Sumter. " I am certain," he wrote, " that the 
authorities of South Carolina are determined to prevent, if possible, any 
troops from being placed in that fort; and that they will seize upon 
that most important work as soon as they think there is any reasonable 
ground for a doubt whether it will be turned over to the State. I think 
that I could, however, were I to receive instructions to do so, throw my 
garrison into that work. , . . Once in that work with my garrison, I 
could keep the entrance of this harbor open until they constructed works 
outside of me, which might, I presume, prevent vessels from coming into 
the outer harbor." 

No answer came to this letter. Anderson waited, seeing day after 
day the situation grow more threatening. Finally he determined to wait 
no longer for permission from Washington, but to do at once that which 
his knowledge and soldierly instincts dictated. 

It was the day before Christmas that Anderson arrived at the 
determination to abandon Moultrie and seize upon Fort Sumter. He 



44 BATl^LE FIELDS OF '61, 



had saiil nothing; of his doubts and fears to the N'ounger officers, and 
the\- were still enLiai:^ed in strengthening the defences of Fort Moultrie, 
with a view to resisting aii\' possible attack. Kvcn while the major was 
giving the jireliiuinar\- orders for the move, one o\' the lieutenants went 
to him to ask for wire to we.ue into traps before the fort that the 
assailants might trip and f<ill shouUl the\- essay a charge. The peculiar 
smile with which Major Anderson promised him " a mile of wire " set 
the subaltern thinking", and a moment later he heard his commander's 
order that all the women and cliiklren about Fort !\Ioultrie should be 
moved at once to Vovi Johnson. 

This was quickl}' done. The authorities of Charleston were not 
blind to the movement, and speedily sent a messenger to Anderson to 
tind out what it meant. 

" I cannot be ignorant of your intention to attempt the capture of 
this fort." replied Anderson ; " and as a soldier I can see that the 
attempt will certainly be successful. I have therefore sent away the 
women and children, that the defence I shall make may not be hampered 
by their presence." 

This answer lulled the suspicions of the South Carolinians. They 
thought Anderson was quietl\- making preparations to submit to inevi- 
table defeat. As a matter of tact, in sending the non-combatants away 
from Fort Moultrie he had onl\- begun the work of taking possession of 
Fort Sumter. Had the South Carolinians sent spies to Fort Johnson, 
they would have discovered that the women and children were not 
disembarked there, but remained on board the schooners in which they 
had left l^'ort Moultrie. Crowded together upon those little crafts, they 
remained awaiting a certain signal-gun, tor which Major Anderson had 
arranged. 

Christmas da\-, 1 860, came and passed awa\' with no testivity to mark 
it at the fort. The next da\- the routine o\' guard mount, drill, and 
parade went on as usual, with nothing to indicate that anything was to 
occur that should make that day memorable in the histor\' of the nation. 
But just at nightfall Major Anderson called his officers, and said quietly, 



\ 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 45 

" Gentlemen, in twenty minutes we will leave for Fort Sumter. Prepare 
yourselves, and sec that the men make ready for the move." 

There was bustle for the next twenty minutes in Fort Moultrie. 
The officers' suppers stood smoking on the tables, but there was no time 
for eating. Every one was packing knapsacks, looking up arms and 
equipments, and preparing for a quick and silent march. Just at sunset 
the little column filed out of Fort Moultrie, and took up the march to 
the point where boats were in waiting to ferry the troops over to Fort 
Sumter. A rear-guard was left in the deserted fort, with orders to 
keep the passage clear for the boats, even if in order to do so a few 
round shot had to be sent at the Charleston guard-boat that constantly 
patrolled the harbor about Fort Sumter. Soon the troops were all 
embarked, and the heavy boats were slowly making their way across the 
water. The rear-guard standing at the cannon on the sea-wall at Fort 
Moultrie watched them eagerly in their sluggish course. Before they were 
half-way across, the guard-boat was seen steaming down upon them ; and 
the gunners in Fort Moultrie brought their shotted guns to bear upon 
her, ready to blow her out of the water if she should attempt to arrest 
or run down Major Anderson's troops. But after slowing up and giving 
the boats a careful examination, the people on the guard-boat seemed to 
reach the conclusion that all was right ; and in a moment she wks lost 
to sight in the gathering darkness, and the beating of her paddles died 
away. Five minutes later the boats made fast to the wharf in front of 
Fort Sumter, and the troops began to disembark. A crowd of excited 
workmen rushed out of the interior of the fort, where they had been 
employed, and began to abuse the soldiers. That was stopped in short 
order by the troops, who promptly charged upon the excited throng, 
drove them into the centre of the fort, and left them there, walled in by 
a cordon of sentinels with fixed bayonets. 

Soon all of Anderson's command, save the rear-guard, had reached 
the fort. A signal-gun brought the schooners from Fort Johnson laden 
with women and children ; and when they had disembarked, the captured 
workmen were put aboard the schooners and sent ashore. Signal was 



46 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

then made for the rear-guard to abandon Fort Moultrie, which they 
speedily did, first chopping down the flag-staff, spiking the cannon, and 
burning the gun-carriages. By eight o'clock the movement was com- 
pleted, and Anderson, with his little command, and provisions enough 
for six months, was safely housed behind the massive walls of Fort 
Sumter. 

Charleston was furious next morning. The papers were fierce in 
their denunciation of the act of war. Messengers were sent from house 
to house to notify the people of Anderson's bold deed, and to stir up 
indignation. The local conspirators were quick to send telegrams to 
Floyd, the perfidious Secretary of War, telling of Anderson's movement 
and demanding his recall. The rage of those who conspired against the 
peace of the Union, both in Charleston and at the national capitol, 
knew no bounds. 

Thousands of the people of Charleston, on hearing the news, 
flocked down to the water-front to look at the fort which had been thus 
summarily seized. There it stood, with its rows of embrasures, through 
which the cannon could be dimly seen. But there was no sign that it 
was in the possession of an armed force. No flag floated from the flag- 
staff. Not until late in the afternoon was the starry banner of the nation 
displayed. 

Before daybreak some of the younger officers had gone to Major 
Anderson to ask permission to hoist the colors. But being deeply 
sensible of the gravity of the step he had taken, and being by nature a 
man of strong religious convictions, he had given orders that the 
ceremonj' should be deferred until the chaplain should arrive. Accord- 
ingly, a little after noon the whole command assembled upon the parade, 
and, after a brief prayer by Chaplain Harris, the colors were run up and 
the regimental band played " Hail Columbia." 

Hardly was this ceremony completed when a telegram was handed 
to Anderson. Its angry wording told how completely his bold manceuvre 
had defeated the plans of Secretary Floyd, from whom the despatch 
came. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 47 



" Intelligence has reached here this morning," so ran the despatch, 
" that you have abandoned Fort Moultrie, spiked your guns, burnt the 
carriages, and gone to Fort Sumter. It is not believed, because there is 
no order for any such movement. Explain the meaning of this report." 

To this Anderson replied, " The telegram is correct. I abandoned 
Fort Moultrie because I was certain that if attacked I must have been 
sacrificed, and the command at the harbor lost. I spiked the guns and 
destroyed the carriages so as to keep the guns from being turned against 
us. If attacked, the garrison would never have surrendered without a 

fight." 

This plucky response had its effect in two cities. It set the double- 
faced Secretary of War a-planning to get from President Buchanan an 
order for Anderson's recall, and it set the Charlestonians to building 
forts and batteries and mounting big guns, with which to batter down 
the sturdy brick walls which encompassed Anderson and his little band 
of Yankee soldiers. 

Floyd's efforts to induce the President to disavow Anderson's act 
and humiliate that plucky officer met with no success. A stormy 
meeting of the Cabinet was held, at which Floyd in vain argued that 
Anderson's movement was in violation of the " solemn pledges of the 
government." But the loyal members of the Cabinet were outspoken in 
their approval of Anderson's manoeuvre. The President himself was firm, 
and when Floyd left the Cabinet that night it was with the knowledge 
that his influence at Washington was at an end. It was time for him to 
array himself openly on the side of the insurrection he had been secretly 
aiding. So, two days later, he tendered to the President his resignation 
of the office of Secretary of War, and betook himself to the South. We 
shall see him again as a brigadier-general in the Confederate army, — a 
position far more honorable than that of a man posing as a servant of 
the United States, commanding United States troops, drawing a salary 
from the United States treasury, and yet withal bending all his energies 
to the work of giving aid and comfort, and information and strength, to 
the enemies of the United States. There were men of stainless honor 



48 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

and unimpeachable probity who fought under the Confederate flag. 
There were soldiers, sailors, and statesmen in the service of the short- 
lived Confederacy whose characters we must admire, though we deplore 
the errors which led them to array themselves against • the Union. But 
with these men Floyd has no place. Treacherous as a statesman, he 
won no honor as a soldier. His place is with the traitors, whose treason 
possessed no mitigating qualities. 

But to return to Charleston. While the populace was still mad with 
excitement and rage, the authorities of South Carolina proceeded to 
seize upon whatever United States property was left unprotected. First, 
the government arsenal, which Secretary Floyd had filled to overflowing 
with muskets, rifles, bayonets, sabres, and other arms, was seized. With 
the arms thus obtained, men were quickly armed ; and within four hours 
from the moment the national ensign was first seen waving over the 
ramparts of Fort Sumter, two steamers, crowded with armed men, were 
speeding down the bay to capture and garrison Fort Moultrie and Castle 
Pinckney. Both were taken with but little difficulty. At Pinckney the 
puny garrison barricaded the door, and the assailants had to make their 
entrance by clambering over the wall. Once in, however, the conquerors 
speedily hoisted a palmetto flag over the castle walls, and the cheers of 
the multitudes gathered on the wharves that lined the harbor signalized 
the hoisting of the first insurgent flag over a Federal fortification. At 
Moultrie, the Carolinians met no opposition whatever. A solitary sentinel 
had been left there by Anderson, and he speedily surrendered the fort 
left in his charge. The victorious Southerners rushed in, but only to 
find that they had taken a dismantled fort. The guns were spiked. 
Many of the gun-carriages had been burned, and the smoke was still 
rising from their smouldering embers. No ammunition was left in the 
magazines ; no provisions remained in the empty storehouse. Anderson 
had left the Southerners only the empty shell of a fort. But slight 
though their victory was, they exulted in it, and sent up three rockets, 
for it was then quite dark, to announce their triumph to the people in 
the city. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 49 

In the mean time the blue-coated soldiers in Fort Sumter had not 
been idle. With a few shots from some of the big cannon that peered 
from the topmost tier of Sumter, Anderson might have held Fort 
Moultrie against the onslaught of the enemy, or have battered down the 
crazy walls of Castle Pinckney, or have driven away from the Charleston 
wharves the crowd of mad secessionists that cheered each new insult to 
the national flag ; but his hands were tied by his orders. Until the 
enemy opened fire on him he dared not aim a gun against the foe. So, 
paying no heed to the work of the secessionists, he set himself to work 
to strengthen the fort in which he had taken refuge. 

Then set in three months of anxiety and preparation. The Federals 
within Sumter worked incessantly to get the fort in condition for defence. 
The secessionists outside were untiring in their labor upon the batteries 
and forts on Morris Island and the shores surrounding the harbor. 
Official notes, short and sharp, passed between the belligerents. Once 
the garrison in Fort Sumter wanted to try a Columbiad or heavy cannon 
that they had mounted as a mortar, so they loaded it up with what 
they thought a light charge of powder, dropped in a shell, and touched 
it off. To their horror the shell soared high in air and went sailing off 
towards the wharves of Charleston ; it fell a trifle short, but near enough 
to frighten the city folk, and a flag of truce soon visited the fort, where 
the fullest explanations and apologies were made. Next time it was the 
turn of the secessionists to apologize, for a signal-gun fired from a 
battery on Cumming's Point proved to contain a solid shot, instead of a 
blank cartridge ; and as the gun happened to be aimed at Fort Sumter, 
the error came near prematurely opening the war. But while the two 
hostile forces lay thus resting upon their arms, occurrences such as these 
only led to pleasant words of regret and explanation. Indeed, while pro- 
fessionally at war with each other, the officers of the hostile camps were 
on good terms ; and it is even recorded that some of the generous 
Southerners, hearing that the younger officers in Anderson's command 
were deprived of the luxury of cigars, politely sent over a large quantity 
of the desired luxuries, together with several cases of claret. 



50 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



ClKiplain Harris, who had coiuhiclctl the services upon the occasion 
o\' hoistini;- the I'nited States tla^; over Fort Sumter, early came into 
collision with the forces of tiie eneni>-. His family lived in IMoultrieville, 
on the main-land, .md thither he returned after having seen Sumter put 
in the hands o\ the I'nited States forces. When the enemy had com- 
pleted the blockade ol the harbor, when a secessionist guard-boat 
patrolled the waters about Fort Sumter, halting and examining every 
boat that trieil to approach the fort. Chaplain Harris went to the com- 
mander o\ Fort Moultrie and asked if he would be hindered from going 
to Fort Sumter. 

" Oh. no. parson." was the patronizing response. " Vou can have a 
pass, 1 reckon. ' 

" 1 did not ask tor a pass, sir." responded the chaplain, in high 
dudgeon ; " 1 am a United States officer, and will visit an>- United States 
fort without permission. 1 asked you whether you would use torce to 
prevent my visiting F^ort Sumter whenever 1 nia\- see ht to do so." 

The South Carolinian shrugged his shoulders with seeming indif- 
ference, but Chaplain Harris never again succeeded in visiting the 
beleaguered fort. 

F\^r more than three months Major Anderson and his comrades 
remained penned up in Fort Sumter. But it was no time of idleness. 
They found the fort almost dismantled, and had to work long and 
unweariedly to get into condition tor defence. F^mbrasures were bricked 
up. bomb-proofs repaired, guns shifted from tier to tier, mines planted 
beneath the esplanade fronting the fort so that a storming-party might be 
blown to pieces, and huge hand-grenades and infernal machines made to 
be toppled over the parapet, to the complete annihilation of any enemy 
beneath. Through it all, through overwork, extra guard-duty, and 
continually shortened rations, the soldiers maintained their good-humor, 
showing dissatisfaction onl>- when their rations o\' tobacco were cut ofl. 

Nor were the Southerners on their part idle. Moultrie was quickly 
put into good condition. The spiked guns and charred carriages were 
replaced b\- new cannon of the most approved make. New works began 



^g>ff,up;i,i I I "I^ipiii 





4;. 



h- .^^ ^ 



Page ci.— Hattle fiklds ui- '(»■ ^^,^,., 

' THE FLOATING BATTERY IN ACTION. 



BATTI,E FII-:L1)S OF '6i. 5;^ 



to rise on all the islands of the harbor. On Sullivan's Island, beside 
Fort Moultrie, were two land batteries, and a floating battery cased with 
railroad iron was moored near by. r\jrt Ri})lcy was armed and manned. 
Fort Johnston, dismantled since the Revolution, was provided with a 
battery and a garrison of artillery-men. Soon I^'ort Sumter was girdled 
with an iron band of cannon. All of this work could have been speedilv 
checked had Anderson possessed the authority to open fire upon the Ion*'- 
lines of slaves and workmen who, under his guns, were building offensive 
works for his discomfiture. But his instructions were to let the others 
begin the conflict, so the South Carolinians continued their work without 
hindrance. 

On the 9th of January, 1861, the sentinel who paced the parapet of 
Fort Sumter saw, as the gray light of dawn lighted up the eastern 
horizon, a large steamer lying just outside the bar. Anderson knew, and 
some of his officers surmised, that it was the "Star of the West," which 
had thus tardily been sent from Washington to bear reenforcements and 
provisions to the beleaguered garrison. Only by the most urgent 
entreaties had General Scott and the new Secretary of War, Mr. Holt, 
succeeded in inducing President Buchanan to send this much-needed 
relief The steamer carried troops to the number of about two thousand, 
and was heavily freighted with provisions and munitions of war. Though 
she had been despatched from New York with the utmost secrecy, some 
treacherous clerk at Washington had sent the secessionists warning, and 
they stood at their guns in Charleston harbor ready to drive her back, 
or sink her if necessary. 

With early dawn the steamer got up her anchor and started up 
the harbor. Scarcely had she come within range of the battery on 
Morris Island when a shot was fired across her bows, and as she 
disregarded the hint, a second shot, more carefully aimed, whizzed above 
her deck. Then Fort Moultrie opened with two of its heavy guns, and 
in less tiiaii fifteen minutes the ship that might have given the 
beleaguered soldiers in Sumter such inestimable aid had swung around 
and was standing out to sea again. Throughout il all the garrison in 



••)4 r.Arrii: I'li.ins ok 'oi, 



Sumter had been inactive; the soldiers anirry. excited, and outspoken in 
their demands to be alKnvod to return the tire of the batteries that were 
tiriuL;' on the tla^;' ; the youni^er otVicers no less ea>;"er to resent the insult 
to their eountr\"; Major Anderson silent, moody, racked with the conflict 
between his ideas o\' his duty and liis desire, which could onl\' have 
been to eli.\stise the secessionists who thus wantonly afVronted the flag of 
his country .md of theirs. Two ov three o\' the othcers held a hasty 
conference with the conim.mder w hen tlie tiriui; began ; but the result of 
the coUoquN- was not satisfactory to .it le.ist one o[' them, for he. as a 
tellow-otVicer writes. " cune bounding up the two or three steps that led 
to the terre-plein, smashing his h.U, .uul muttering something about the 
flag. o( which the words ' trample on it ' reached the ears of the men, and 
let them know that there was to be no fighting, on their part, at least." 
So ended in a sh.\met"ul fiilure the tirst attempt to relieve h\'>rt 
Sumter. The ver\- memory of it to-da\- is enough to bring the hot 
blood of sh.une to the cheeks of lowil Americans. It was bad enough 
for the United States to have to descend to the pitiable subterfuge of 
sending a merchant-vessel in secret to carry reenforcements to a govern- 
ment fort. It would have been better had President Buchanan shown 
some of that sturd\- American spirit that anim.ited Chaplain Harris when 
he ret\ised to accept a Carolinian pass to \-isit a United States fort. Hut 
at'ter the government had stooped to pett\' concealment, its purpose was 
defeated b\- .i mere show of torce on the part of its enemies. Had the 
captain of the " Star of the West " possessed the pluck that animated 
man\- a Confederate blockade-nmner in later years, he woidd have taken 
his ship past the hostile battery, ami laid her up beneath the protecting 
guns of Fort Sumter. And had Anderson not been disheartened b\- the 
half-hearted support he had received from Washington, he would have 
shown the insurgents that the time had not >"et come when an insult to 
the Stars and Stripes would be allowed to go unavenged, even in 
Charleston harbor. But as it was. the " Star of the West " went tamely 
back to New York, and the Charleston papers next day were mightily 
boastful of the " lesson "' thev had taught the North. 



BATTLE FIELDS OV '6i. 55 

The episode of the " Star of the West " marked the be^innin^ of 
the end in the drama being performed in Charleston harbor. Thereafter 
Anderson's communication with the main-land was wholly cut off. He 
was no longer allowed to send for his daily mail and fresh provisions. 
He was made to feel that he was indeed an alien enemy in a foreign 
country. A formal demand was made by the Governor of South Caro- 
lina for the surrender of the fort two days after the failure to reenforce 
it, but Anderson refused. Then stone-boats were sunk in all the 
channels leading to Charleston harbor, and the secessionists, having thus 
made certain that no help could come to the garrison, set about the 
work of preparation for the bombardment, which was to put an end to 
the long occupation of Fort Sumter by the Union forces. 

It is unnecessary to give in detail the events of the three months 
following the attack upon the " Star of the West." Enough to say that 
while the South abated not at all its energetic preparations for war, the 
North still maintained its attitude of indecision. By the early part of 
February the revolt in the South had attained such proportions that the 
seceded States, then six in number, formed themselves into a confederacy, 
and elected Jefferson Davis president. As soon as this was done, military 
companies from all the States in the Confederacy flocked to Charleston. 
The force arrayed against Anderson was daily increased. A Lcniisianian, 
Brig.-Gen. G. T. Beauregard, was put in command of the Confederate 
forces. And all the time Anderson, wholly cut off from any communi- 
cation with the North, saw only the incessant activity of his enemies, 
and thought himself deserted by his friends. 

But on the 4th of March, 1861, Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated 
President of the United .States, and J^uchanan and his faint-hearted 
advisers had been relegated to [)rivatc life. Hardly had the new President 
taken the oath of office when he announced his determination to send 
succor to the garrison of Fort Sumter. But how? The reception met 
by the " Star of the West " was as nothing to what might be expected, 
now that the Confederates hafl jjlanted batteries on every available neck 
of land that commanded Charlestf)n harbor. War-vessels would be 



56 i5.vrri.i': i'ii:i.i)s ok '6i. 



needed to run the i;auntlct of shot and shell, and Buchanan's Secretary 
of the Nav)' hail sent most of the cruisers to foreign stations. However, 
a small squadron was got together and despatched for the relief of Fort 
Sumter. Unluckily, a fleet for the relief of Fort Pickens was sent off 
the same i.la\-, and the chief vessel intended for Fort Sumter, through 
some mistake in the orders, went to Pensacola instead of to Charleston. 

The eijuipment of this relief expedition, like ever\'thing else done 
in Washington, was quickl)' made known to the Confederates, and they 
determined to get possession of the fort before its arrival. On the loth 
of April the situation became warlike. The great iron-clad floating 
batter)' was lowed out and nuxned at a point of vantage. Fire-ships 
were prepared, to be sent drifting down upon the relief squadron when 
it should appear. The artillery companies in the forts and batteries were 
put under arms. Signal-guns and bugle-calls summoned to their posts 
the officers and men who were pleasuring in the city. With his field- 
glass Major Anilerson could see these signs of activit)', and knew that a 
battle was impending. 

Next da}- the Confederates made the first move, by sending two 
otTicers under a flag of truce to demand the immediate surrender of the 
fort. Anderson returned a written refusal, but remarked, as he handed 
the letter to the envo\'s who were to bear it back to Beauregard : — 

" 1 will await the first shot, and if \'ou do not batter us to pieces 
we shall be starved out in a few da\-s." 

The Confederate commander thought he discerned in this remark an 
evidence of willingness to surrender at a later date, and promptly re- 
turned a second communication, demanding that Anderson should agree 
to evacuate the fort on the 15th. antl that in the mean time he should 
pledge himself not to turn his guns upon the Confederate batteries unless 
the enem\' should first fire upon Sumter. This message reached Ander- 
son shorth' after midnight on the 12th of April. He read it at first 
approvingly. He knew that in four days his provisions would be gone, 
and he saw no reason wlw he should not a\-ert the bloodshed of a 
bombardment b\' agreeing to capitulate when the four days should have 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 57 



elapsed. But as he read the summons again, he saw that it was so 
worded that his acceptance would leave the Confederates free to turn all 
their guns upon any vessels that might come to his relief, while Fort 
Sumter would be stopped from giving the vessels any aid so long as no 
guns were aimed directly at the fort. Unwilling thus to tie his hands, 
Anderson refused to accede to this condition. Thereupon the Confederate 
messengers handed him a written notification that in one hour the 
Confederate batteries would open fire. 

It was then nearly daylight. Anderson, with several of his officers, 
stood in a casemate of the fort as the Confederate aids read aloud the 
curt notice of the impending battle. Then all walked down upon the 
esplanade and out to the wharf where the Confederates' boat was 
moored. As the envoys left the wharf Anderson shook their hands, 
saying, with great feeling, "If we never meet in this world again, God 
grant, that we may meet in the next ! " Then the boat pushed off, and 
the Union officers went back to the fort to prepare for the bombard- 
ment. Their preparations were brief. Beyond hoisting the flag and 
ordering the men to keep in the bomb-proofs, nothing was done. But 
the news soon spread among the soldiers that Beauregard would open 
fire in an hour, and most of them sought embrasures whence they could 
watch for the opening gun. 

On the side of the Confederates there was more activity. Messengers 
were sent to the commanders of the different batteries to bid them be 
ready for work. The news quickly spread to the city; the people 
came down to the wharves and docks by thousands, and stood, regard- 
less of the chill, damp morning air, waiting for the conflict to begin. 
They had not long to wait. Promptly at 4.30 A.M. the dull boom of 
a heavy mortar in the battery at Fort Johnston was heard, a shell 
rose high among the stars, and then fell quick and true as a meteor, 
bursting directly over Fort Sumter. The war was opened. 

This was, in fact, the first gun of the war, though from the fact that 
it was fired merely as a signal, and not as an act of offence, it has not 
been so considered. The second shot was fired from a cannon from the 



58 lurri-E fields of '6i. 

iron-clad battery on Morris Island. It was fired by a venerable Virginian, 
Edmunil RutTin b\' name, and was well aimed, for the projectile struck 
the outer wall o( the maijazine in Fort Sumter, burst, set fire to some 
loose powtler, ami tor a moment made the defenders think that the first 
camion-shot had exploded their ammunition and blown up the maga- 
zine. 

After the second gun the firing became general. From Morris and 
Sullivan Islands and from Cimiming's Point, from Forts Moultrie and 
Johnston and from the floating battery, a hail of shells, bombs, and solid 
shot was poured upoi\ Vovt Sumter. The thunders of the cannonade rose 
in majestic cadence, and could be heard far out at sea. The crowd on 
the wharves grew ever greater, and gazed in wonder and terror upon the 
awful scene. Scars began to appear upon the face of the besieged fort. 
Clouds of dust and flying bits of stone could be seen as the shots took 
etVect. Still for more than an hour it maintained a sullen silence, aijd let 
its assailants do their worst. 

\W half-past seven the garrison in the fort had finished worrying 
down the short ration of salt pork that was dignified by the name of 
breakfast, and as the drums beat the assembly the soldiers formed in one 
of the bomb-proofs to prepare for the duties of the day. By this time 
the enem>- had secured the range of the fort with considerable accuracy, 
and his shells were dropping upon the parade, and his solid shot were 
making such havoc among the guns mounted upon the parapet that 
the necessity for keeping the little garrison under cover was obvious. 
With a view to saving the strength of his men as much as possible. 
Major Anderson divided the garrison into two " reliefs." and fixed the 
time each should serve the guns at four hours. Soon the first division 
was at the guns, and with the nine guns they were able to handle they 
opened upon the batteries on IMorris. James, and Sullivan's Islands 
a fire so vigorous that for a time the Confederates thought that in some 
wa\' the fort had secured reenforcements during the night. 

But after two hours' firing the gunners in Fort Sumter began to 
see that, with all their enthusiasm, they were engaged in a hopeless 




Page sq. — Battle riiiLDs ok 'Oi. 

SERGEANT CARMODY FIGHTS SINGLE HANDED. 



BATITE FIELDS OF '6i. 61 

contest. Their heaviest guns they could not use, for they were mounted 
on the parapet, and Major Anderson felt his force too small to expose the 
lives of his men outside of the bomb-proofs. The shell guns were use- 
less, for the same reason. The only cannon which were employed in 
the battle (except a few surreptitiously discharged by some adventurous 
gunners) were the 32 and 42 pounders. The shot from these cannon 
rebounded from the iron-clad battery like hailstones from a roof, and the 
gunners, after seeing their best cannon practice thus wasted, abandoned 
that target and turned their guns on Fort Moultrie. But there they met 
with little better success. The massive walls of sand-bags that covered 
every exposed point were as impenetrable as the railroad iron that 
encased the iron-clad battery. The embrasures were closed with cotton 
bales, so that even when a shot from Fort Sumter entered an embrasure 
it did little harm. Four hours of well-directed cannonading produced 
no more effect upon Fort Moultrie than to silence one of its guns for a 
few minutes, and to riddle the brick barracks that stood at the back part 
of the fort. Therefore, when the relief came to take the guns for the 
second period, the gunners who had worked four hours to achieve such 
puny results felt their enthusiasm waning somewhat, though their courage 
remained undiminished. Just before the relieving party went to the guns 
two veteran sergeants of the first detail determined to have some sort 
of revenge upon the enemy. Peering out of an open port they looked 
about for some vulnerable object upon which to turn their guns. About 
the Confederate batteries no living being could be seen, but down the 
beach, nearer the city, was a large crowd of spectators. On these the 
veterans trained their guns, and sent two solid shot that struck the 
beach, ricochetted over the heads of the crowd, and went crashing 
through the walls of a hotel behind them. Thereafter the sensitive ser- 
geants were not troubled by the appearance of a crowd of unsympathetic 
lookers-on. 

By this time it was nearly noon. Surgeon Crawford, who had been 
serving in command of one of the guns, made a visit to the parapet, 
which the enemy's shot and shell were sweeping at a fearful rate, and 



62 BATll.E FIELDS OF '6i. 

soon returned from that dangerous post to report that out beyond the 
bar he could see the forms of several vessels dimly outlined through 
the smoke. These were the vessels of the relief squadron, and their 
signals to the fort were quickly made. Sumter tried to respond by 
dipping her flag, but the halliards were shot away, and the flag caught 
and hung helplessly at half-mast. 

Though no very serious damage resulted from the first day's bom- 
bardment, one or two incidents are worth mentioning. One of these 
was the fight which Sergt. John Carmody waged, single-handed and 
alone, against the combined batteries of the enemy. We have said that 
the heaviest guns in Fort Sumter were mounted en barbette, upon the 
parapet, and that these guns had been abandoned because of the fury of 
the enemy's fire upon that part of the fort. Carmody had been serving 
a gun against Fort Moultrie for several hours; he had seen more than 
once a well-aimed shot from his gun go into one of the enemy's em- 
brasures, and had been astonished to see the enemy promptly reply 
with a shot from the gun which he supposed he had dismounted. Re- 
peated disappointments of this kind so angered him that he finally deter- 
mined, in defiance of orders, to try the eft'ect of some of the heavier 
cannon upon this seemingly impregnable fort. 

Accordingly, as soon as relieved, Carmody clambered up to the 
parapet, where he found a long line of heavy cannon, already loaded, 
and roughly aimed at Fort Moultrie. To aim them more carefully was 
too great a task for Carmody's single-handed strength, so he ran along 
the line, pulling the lanyards, and discharging the guns, one after 
another. The balls flew rather wild, but they came near enough 
to the Confederate batteries to make the gunners in Fort Moultrie 
turn their attention to Sumter's barbette tier; and when Carmody 
left, after discharging the last gun, the shot and shell were sweeping 
across the parapet in a way that ended in speedily dismounting most 
of the guns which the audacious sergeant had thus turned upon the 
enemy. 

The two veteran sergeants who had fired upon the crowd of seces- 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 63 

sionist sympathizers were the heroes of another exploit not unHke Car- 
mody's. On the parapet on the Morris-Island side of the fort was 
mounted a ten-inch Columbiad, which bore directly upon the iron battery 
which had defied the power of the smaller guns. This cannon the two 
sergeants determined to fire, and, watching for a moment when no officer 
was near them, they stole out of the bomb-proofs, clambered upstairs, 
and fired the gun. But the result of the shot was disappointing, for the 
ball just grazed the top of the battery and buried itself in the sand 
beyond. Nothing daunted, the two sergeants set about reloading the 
gun, which they accomplished with some trouble. But the recoil had 
thrown the great cannon out of position, and the two volunteer gunners, 
with their most desperate endeavors, were unable to roll it back into 
position. While they pushed and tugged at lever and crow-bar, the 
enemy began to turn his guns upon them, and the parapet soon became 
too hot for comfort. At last, in despair, they proceeded to fire the gun 
from its position " out of battery," with the result of causing the pon- 
derous mass of iron to turn a back summersault in the air, and narrowly 
avoid falling over the- wall down to the parade below. The shot was a 
good one, striking the iron-clad battery fair in the middle ; but the 
gunners were too much dismayed at the accident to notice that: their 
sole thought was to get back to their quarters undetected, and therein 
they were successful. 

When the sun set on that eventful April day, the tired soldiers in 
Sumter were called from the guns, and had time to look about them and 
to note the effect of the bombardment. No blood had been shed. 
Snugly sheltered in the spacious bomb-proofs, the men had been secure 
from the bursting shell and plunging shot that made the parade a scene 
of ruin. The large brick buildings used as barracks had been several 
times set on fire by red-hot shot. The walls of the fort were badly 
battered, and many of the barbette guns were dismounted ; but as a 
defensive work Fort Sumter was as strong as ever. 

All that night the mortars in the Confederate batteries kept drop- 
ping shells into Sumter. No sleep came to the wearied garrison. Some 



C4 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



were on guard ; many were making cartridges, their small stock of these 
necessary articles having been greatly depleted by the ardor of their can- 
nonade. It is worthy of note, as showing the lack of the common 
munitions of war, that the men's flannel shirts were cut up for material 
for cartridge-bags, and that in all the fort only six needles could be 
found to be used in the work. 

In work and watching the night was passed. At daybreak the 
enemy recommenced the cannonade with redoubled vigor. The be- 
sieged, after a meagre breakfast of salt pork, went to their guns at half- 
past seven, and returned a spiteful fire. But though the garrison was 
still undiminished in point of numbers, though all the storm of shot and 
shell that beat upon the fort had as yet drawn not one drop of blood, 
it early became evident to the gallant defenders that that day would see 
the end of their occupation of Fort Sumter. 

The Confederates had noticed the effect of their red-hot shot the day 
before, and on the second day of the bombardment used these terrible 
missiles in great numbers. As a result, the barracks were soon on fire, 
and the flames broke out in so many places that the garrison gave up 
in despair all hope of extinguishing them. This in itself was not so bad, 
for the soldiers were in the bomb-proofs, beyond the reach of the 
flames ; but a strong wind sprung up, driving the stifling smoke into all 
the casemates and galleries of the fort, so that the men could not see 
each other, and were forced to throw themselves flat on the floor to get 
fresh air to breathe. By and by the flames drew closer to the magazine. 
Red-hot shot were falling close to this huge chest of tremendous explo- 
sives, and twice a terrible explosion had narrowly been averted. The 
only course left for the garrison was to take from the magazine enough 
powder for immediate needs, then close its iron doors, and let the flames 
rage harmlessly above and about it. This was done. The iron doors, 
already too hot to be handled with comfort, were closed. The barrels 
of powder, shells, and hand-grenades taken out were carried into the 
bomb-proofs and covered with damp blankets ; but even this proved not 
sufficient protection, and most of the powder was thrown upon the rocks 




¥V i. .^4.ij.t>k.:^ 



rrnfftnrv 



Page 65. — Battle fikih 



SERGEANT HART AND THE COLORS. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 07 

outside the fort, where it was subsequently ignited by a shell, and blew 
up with a tremendous explosion. 

Through all the flame and smoke and screeching shells the old 
flag was kept bravely flying above Sumter. Several times the flag-staff 
had been hit, and the halliards by which the flag had been hoisted 
were long since cut in pieces. At last, about noon, a heavy shot struck 
the flag-staff, cutting it in tvvain, and the flag fell into the parade, into 
the midst of the burning embers. An officer rescued the banner from 
the flames and took it into the bomb-proofs. Here it was taken by 
Sergeant Hart, who boldly clambered with it to the parapet, and there 
fastened the broken flag-staff to the ramparts, leaving the Stars and Stripes 
again waving defiantly in the midst of the storm of shot and shell. It 
is a strange coincidence that about eighty-five years earlier another 
brave non-commissioned officer, Sergt. William Jasper, had performed a 
similar feat at Fort Moultrie, within sight of the spot on which Ser- 
geant Hart in 1862 defended the flag of his country from disgrace. 
Jasper was defending his flag against foreign enemies, — the British. 
Hart was ■ helping to maintain the authority of the flag which Jasper 
had helped to give a place among the banners of the proudest nations 
of the earth. ^ 

Though the flag had been down but a few minutes, the Confederates 
noticed its absence, and some thought that Sumter had already surren- 
dered. The fire of the fort, too, had greatly slackened, and hardly more 
than one gun was discharged every five minutes. As the gunner of a 
cannon bearing on Fort Moultrie approached the embrasure to load the 
cannon, he was astonished to see a man in full Confederate uniform 
standing on the esplanade outside, and excitedly looking in. 

"I am General Wigfall," said the stranger; "let me in, I want to 
see Major Anderson." 

The soldier gruffly refused him admittance, and Wigfall ran up and 
down the esplanade in constant dread of being hit by the fire from 
his own batteries, which had grown more fierce as Sumter showed 

' For an account of Sergeant Jasper's exploit, see " Blue Jackets of '76," by Willis J. Abbot, page 81. 



68 BA'ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



signs of weakness. At last, a private, standing at an embrasure, took 
pity on him and admitted him. He asked for Major Anderson, and on 
finding that officer begged him to surrender forthwith. Anderson then 
agreed to evacuate the fort, with his men and with all the honors of 
war. After vainly waving a white handkerchief from a port-hole to stop 
the Confederate fire, Wigfall departed, and Major Anderson allowed a 
white flag to be raised over the fort. Soon after, the Confederate bat- 
teries ceased their fire, and quiet once again reigned over the harbor. 

A few moments later a boat bearing three Confederate officers 
appeared before the fort, and after some parley the visitors were 
admitted. From them Anderson learned that Wigfall had been a wholly 
unauthorized visitor, having no right to propose conditions of surrender, 
or to agree to any proposals made to him. Angered by this discovery, 
Major Anderson threatened to begin the fight again ; but the new envoys 
dissuaded him, and after due ceremony it was agreed that the Federals 
should evacuate the fort at noon, the next day. They were to be 
allowed to salute their colors in taking them down, and to leave the 
fort with colors flying and carrying their arms with them. This agree- 
ment was soon confirmed by the Confederate commander-in-chief; and 
b)- nightfall the garrison of the fort was deep in preparation for the 
evacuation, while the Confederates and the people of Charleston were 
cheering themselves hoarse in their joy. 

The next day the terms of the agreement were carried out. The 
flag was hauled down from the flag-stafi", while the little garrison that 
had endured so much in its defence was drawn up on the parade. 
Unhappily, the premature discharge of a cannon during the salute led 
to the death of one of Anderson's brave soldiers. The Confederates 
present stood with uncovered heads, while this one victim, of what had 
otherwise been a bloodless battle, was buried within the walls of the 
fort he had so bravely defended. Then, with the Stars and Stripes flying 
at their head, and the band playing " Yankee Doodle," the Federal 
soldiers marched to the vessel which was to take them out to the United 
States fleet. The fleet once reached, the tattered flag of Fort Sumter 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



69 



was raised to the masthead of the man-of-war " Baltic " and saluted by 
all the other vessels in the squadron. Then they bore away to the north- 
ward, leaving Fort Sumter in the hands of the Confederates; and as 
Anderson looked back and saw the almost unknown flag of the Confed- 
eracy—the Stars and Bars — floating from those shattered ramparts, he 
made a solemn vow to raise once again that Union flag over Sum- 
ter's bastions. How well in later years he discharged that vow we shall 
yet see. 





CHAPTER IV. 

PRESIDENT LINCOLN CALLS FOR TROOPS. VOLUNTEERS NORTH AND SOUTH. MASSACHU- 
SETTS SOLDIERS IN BALTIMORE. HARPER'S FERRY AND THE NORFOLK NAVY-YARD. 

BOUNDARIES OF THE CONFEDERACY. WEST VIRGINU JOINS THE UNION. KENTUCKY 

REMAINS LOYAL. HOW LYON SAVED MISSOURI. 




ET US now pass hastily over the events that occurred be- 
tween the fall of Fort Sumter and the date of the first 
great battle between the armed forces of the North and the 
South. 

The news of the attack upon Fort Sumter had been carried to 
all parts of the North by the telegraph, and while the gunners in the 
Confederate batteries were relentlessly pouring red-hot shot into that 
doomed structure, crowds stood about the telegraph and newspaper 
offices in the Northern cities watching eagerly for the latest news from 
the fight. Word came that Anderson had capitulated ; then that he 
had evacuated the fort, and was on his way north. Then all eyes and 
all hearts turned toward Washington, and one question was upon 
every lip, "What will Lincoln do?" That was on Sunday night, April 

14, 1861. 

70 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 71 

The people had not long to wait. Monday morning, on the first 
page of every loyal newspaper in the North, appeared a PROCLAMATION, 
whereby Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, called upon 
the militia of the country to furnish forthwith seventy-five thousand 
men for the purpose of putting down the growing insurrection. Doubt 
vanished with the appearance of this proclamation. Factions in the 
loyal States disappeared. Every one was for the preservation of the 
Union, and the beat of the drum and the tramp of marching soldiery 
were heard in city and village alike. Within forty-eight hours thou- 
sands of citizen soldiers were under arms and ready to march to 
Washington. 

Of the enthusiasm of the populace and the alacrity with which 
the militia responded to the call of the President some striking stories 
are told. The Massachusetts troops were first to march. It is said 
that, while one of these regiments was encamped in New York, a 
citizen noticed that one of the soldiers was shod with ragged shoes 
that would scarce protect his feet from the mud and stones of the 
roadway. 

" How in the world," asked the citizen, " did you ever come to 
start out on a campaign in such boots as those?" 

" When the order came for me to join my company, sir," an- 
swered the soldier, " T was ploughing in the same field at Concord where 
my grandfather was ploughing when the British fired on the Massachu- 
setts men at Lexington. He did not wait a minute ; and I did not 
either." 

It is needless to state that the ragged boots were quickly replaced 
by a pair of the best obtainable in New York. 

Another Massachusetts militia-man had just killed a pig, and was 
about to scald and dress it, when a messenger appeared summoning 
him to join his company. Throwing down his knife, he put on his 
coat, and with a word or two of farewell to his wife he started off. The 
I)ig could wait until the war was over. 

In Montreal. Canada, a couple of Yankees were managing a little 



R.Vrn.K FlF.l.PS OV '6t. 



retail store. One niorninjx they read the news of the rrosident's proc- 
lamation in the Montreal papers. The next da>-. jicoplc ^oin^; to the 
shop to trade foiuul it closed, and on the door was posted the 
following notice : — 



THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES 
H.AS ISSl'HD HIS CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS. 
.AS AMERICANS WE RESPOND AT ONCE. 
EVERY DROP OF BLOOD IN OUR VEINS 
BELONGS TO OUR COUNTRY. 



A \-ouni; business man of New \ork. Drake de Ka>- by name, 
closed his office, pinned to the door the curt notice. — 



GONE TO W.ASHINGTON. 
BACK AT CLOSE OF WAR. 



and then not onh- went to Washington himself, but took with him a 

detachment of his employees, all of whom were soon enrolled among 
the wearers of the blue. 

In the South there was much the same enthusiasm and unity o( 
action. Militia companies were organized in all parts of the country. 
Bands of Cvivalr\- sprung up. Kver>- \-oung man who owned a horse 
hastened to enroll himself under the standard of some leader. With 
sincerity and honesty of purpose equal to that of the Northern volun- 
teers, the Southerners felt that they were organizing to defend their 
homes and kindred from an invading force, and ■ thought themselves 
actuated b\- no less lofty patriotism than that which led Northern men 
to drop the plough, catch up the musket, and hasten to the defence 
of the national capitol. 




Page yi. — Ratti.f. KiF.r.ns of '6i. 



THE RIOT IN BALTIMORE. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 75 



It was toward Washington that all the Northern troops made 
their way. A glance at the map will show that, in the very nature of 
things, the frontier, the line along which the hostile forces would first 
meet in battle, was likely to be the Potomac river.- First of the North- 
ern troops to start for the front was the Sixth Massachusetts regiment. 
Its way to the capital lay through the cities of New York and Balti- 
more. In the first city it encountered an ovation, but in the latter 
place the untried soldiers found themselves face to face with the enemy. 
It was then the 19th of April. Secessionists in all parts of the South 
were wildly enthusiastic over the news that, the night before, the Vir- 
ginia militia-men had moved upon the United States arsenal at Harper's 
Ferry, and had forced the Federal officer in command there to set 
fire to the place and retreat. This occurrence, right on the borders 
of Maryland, had greatly inflamed the passions of the thousands of 
secessionists in Baltimore ; and when, therefore, they heard that a 
regiment of Northern troops was to pass through the city, that day 
they determined to show that Baltimore was a Southern city, and sym- 
pathized with the Southern cause. 

Arriving in Baltimore at a station on one side of the city, it was 
necessary for the troops to pass through the city to a station on the 
other side in order to continue their journey by rail to Washington. 
Six companies were drawn through the streets in cars without encountering 
anything worse than abuse. Then a car broke down, a crowd gathered, 
stones were thrown, soldiers struck down, and the mob, having tasted 
blood, became uncontrollable, and with rocks, pieces of iron, clubs, and 
revolvers bitterly opposed the advance of the troops. 

There were four companies in the little column that set out that 
April afternoon to cut its way through the Baltimore mob. For a few 
blocks they marched steadily on, looking neither to the right nor the 
left. Then their foes grew more vicious. Missiles by scores are hurled 
upon them. Barricades are built. Bridges which they must cross have 
been unfloored. At last the soldiers begin to return the fire. Volley 
after volley is poured into the mob, and the way is cleared. Four dead 



76 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

Union soldiers were left upon the streets of Baltimore when the Massa- 
chusetts Sixth finally boarded its train for Washington. 

" T pray you cause the bodies of our Massachusetts soldiers, dead in 
battle, to be laid out, preserved in ice, and tenderly sent forward by 
express to me," telegraphed Governor Andrew to the Mayor of Baltimore ; 
and the pathos of the despatch, and the thought of the wrong which 
called it forth, stirred up in the minds of Northern men a hatred of 
Baltimore that it took years to allay. 

Baltimore did not long exult in her triumph over the Massachusetts 
troops. Two weeks later General Butler, a newly commissioned brigadier- 
general, entered the city with four regiments, and took possession of 
Federal Hill, an elevation which commanded the town, and which, from 
its height and the steepness of its sides, was fairly impregnable. This 
display of force brought the city to terms, and thereafter the thousands 
and tens of thousands of Union soldiers who marched through Baltimore 
met with no violence. 

In the mean time the people of the South were not idle. Troops 
from all parts of the seceded States were pressing forward toward the 
Potomac and Ohio rivers, which were generally looked upon as marking 
the general line of battle. Virginia, though not yet formally cut loose 
from the Union, was prompt to act. Her militia threatened the arsenal 
at Harper's Ferry, and caused its commander to fly into Maryland, 
leaving the arsenal a smoking ruin. At Norfolk the Federal govern- 
ment maintained a great navy-yard, with ship-houses, storehouses, rope- 
walks, and a great granite dry-dock, that is still one of the largest 
in the country. The warehouses of the navy-yards were full of 
cordage, sails, and marine stores. Ordnance and ammunition enough for 
a fleet was there. Moreover, a fleet of no mean size was there too, for 
anchored in the stream in front of the navy-yard were a number of 
powerful war-vessels, and on the stocks were others needing but a few 
weeks' work to make them formidable sea-going men-of-war. On all this 
property the secessionists looked covetously, and before the ordinance 
of secession was passed some of the bolder spirits thought to make sure 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 77 

of the prize by sinking obstructions in the river channel so that the 
vessels at the navy-yard might not escape. 

In command at the navy-yard was an officer, Captain McCauley. 
He could not be blind to the warlike purpose of the Virginians ; but 
he was either in sympathy with them or misled by treacherous advisers. 
Though warned from Washington, he did nothing, either to prepare for 
defence or to secure the safety of the vessels under his charge. Chief 
of these was the new frigate " Merrimac," mounting fourteen guns. 
After idly dallying until too late, McCauley suddenly discovered that he 
was in a trap. He saw the secessionists building batteries that one 
broadside from the "Merrimac" or the "Cumberland" could sweep away; 
but still he gave no order. At last reenforcements came to his aid and 
found him in the act of scuttling the " Merrimac," and setting the torch 
to the unfinished ships and the buildings of the navy-yard. It was then 
too late to attempt defence, so the new-comers aided the retreating 
garrison in the incendiary work, and, after seeing the flames well started, 
abandoned the navy-yard to the Virginians. Though the fire did an 
enormous amount of damage, yet the cannon and shot were not injured 
at all, and the Confederates found themselves in possession of two 
thousand pieces of heavy artillery with which to arm their forts. As for 
the sunken " Merrimac," she was raised, coated with iron, and fought 
that historic fight with the little " Monitor " which revolutionized the 
methods of naval warfare.' 

Thus the early weeks of the war went on. Every day brought the 
news that the Confederates had seized upon some fort, arsenal, army-post, 
or navy-yard. The chief energies of the North, however, were devoted 
to rushing troops forward for the protection of Washington. On the 
side of the South there was everything to arouse enthusiasm. There was 
nothing to be lost, and so no reverses were to be chronicled. One by 
one the slave States were coming into the Confederacy, and day by day 
the stock of munitions of war gained by the seizure of Federal property 



1 For a more detailed account of the burning of the Norfolk navy-yard, see " Blue Jackets of '6i," 
page 19. 



78 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '61. 



grew greater. To the people of the North, however, there was nothing 
cheering in the situation. 

A glance at the map accompanying this chapter will show the 
extent of the Confederacy in the latter part of May, 1861. 

Ten States had by that time formally withdrawn from the Union. 
Tennessee, the eleventh State in the Confederacy, was then bound to the 
Confederacy in a " military league," though it had not yet formally 
seceded from the Union. Thus we find the Confederacy to consist of 
the following States : — 



South Carolina 

Mississippi 

Florida 

Alabama 

Georgia 

Louisiana 

Texas . 

Virginia 

Arkansas 

North Carolina 

Tennessee 



Seceded Dec. 20, i860. 

Jan. 9, 1861. 

Jan. 10, 1861. 

Jan. II, 1861. 

" Jan. 19, 1861. 

Jan. 26, 1861. 

Feb. I, 1861. 

April 17, 1861. 

May 6, 1861. 

May 20, 1861. 

June 24, 1861. 



But, huge as this Confederacy was, it failed to include all of the 
States that would naturally have been expected to unite with it. Among 
the loyal States, as shown on the map, will be noticed Missouri, Kentucky, 
Delaware, and Maryland ; all Southern States geographically, all allied 
with the cotton and tobacco States by virtue of their industries and 
social institutions, and, a still stronger reason why they should have been 
expected to link their fortunes with the South, all slave States. Yet one 
other Southern State, West Virginia, is shown on the map as being inde- 
pendent of the Confederacy. Let us first consider its history at this 
time, and then look at the causes which saved the other three loyal 
Southern States to the Union. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 79 

Up in the north-western part of Virginia (as the State was defined 
in i86i, while there was yet no State of West Virginia) the popula- 
tion was meagre, and mostly made up of small farmers, who owned 
no slaves. The rugged country, made up of precipitous mountain 
ranges and narrow winding valleys, afforded little room for the great 
plantations upon which slave labor could be advantageously employed, 
and the people therefore worked their own farms, and became thrifty, 
industrious, and self-reliant. When the convention was called to discuss 
the proposed secession of Virginia, the delegates from this part of the 
State spoke boldly against the project; and when secession became an 
accomplished fact, the people of the forty counties in the mountain 
region met in convention, repudiated the action of the secessionists, 
and finally organized as a State, which was admitted to the Union in 
1863. Throughout the war the West Virginia region was recognized 
as loyal territory, and one of the first acts of the Federal war author- 
ities was to march a large detachment of Union troops into the State, 
to support the people in their loyalty. How^ thoroughly loyal senti- 
ments were disseminated among these sturdy mountaineers can be 
judged from the declaration of a Confederate officer who was sent into 
West Virginia in search of recruits, and after some weeks of endeavor 
was forced to report a complete failure, saying that the West Virginians 
were " thoroughly imbued with an ignorant and bigoted Union senti- 
ment." 

In West Virginia the Confederates first lost a portion of the 
territory which they confidently expected would be theirs. The next 
serious blow to their hopes was the refusal of the rich and fertile 
commonwealth of Kentucky to join their course. Allied with the South 
by its traditions and social customs, abounding in rich plantations 
tilled by thousands of slaves, peopled chiefly by inhabitants of Southern 
birth and lineage, Kentucky was looked upon by the leaders in the 
Confederacy as a certain ally. The military importance of the State 
to the Confederates was obvious. Not alone would its unexcelled 
fertility afford forage-ground for countless armies, but its possession 



80 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

would enable them to hold the Ohio river as their main line of 
defence. 

But when the day of secession arrived, the Union men in the 
State showed unexpected strength. Though the governor and most 
of the politicians were in sympathy with the Confederacy, the Union 
sentiment among the people was too great to be ignored. Therefore 
the State authorities were fain to temporize, and finally declared that, 
in the unhappy struggle then impending, Kentucky would remain 
neutral, giving neither aid nor shelter to either belligerent. To us, 
to-day. such an attitude seems absurd, and the theory that a State 
could be neither bound to the Union, nor yet seceded from it, seems 
untenable ; but for nearly a year Kentucky occupied exactly this posi- 
tion. When President Lincoln's proclamation, calling out the militia to 
the number of seventy-five thousand, was issued, Kentucky was asked 
to furnish four regiments. But these troops the governor indignantly 
refused to furnish. Shortly afterwards the Confederate authorities asked 
for one regiment, and received a like rebuff. For a time, at least, 
the narrow path of neutrality was successfully followed. 

Naturally this action on the part of Kentucky led to some 
strange results. Though the State was neutral, its people were not. 
There were fiery secessionists and ardent unionists, and collisions 
between the factions were not uncommon. Moreover, thousands of 
each party were anxious to join the army, and as a result enlisting 
in Kentucky soon began to be followed with great energy by both 
parties. By tacit consent no camps were established within the borders 
of the State; but the unionists had a camp in Ohio, on the northern 
bank of the river, while the secessionists had their rendezvous in 
Tennessee, a few miles from the Kentucky line. " It was no uncom- 
mon sight in Louisville at this time," writes an officer who served 
in Kentucky, " to see a squad of recruits for the Union service 
marching up one side of a street, while a squad destined for the 
Confederacy was moving down the other. In the interior a train 
bearing a company destined for Nelson's (Union) camp took aboard 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 81 

at the next county town another company which was bound for 
Camp Boone (Confederate). The officers in charge made a treaty by 
which their men were kept in separate cars." 

But while the troops were thus being marshalled in hostile camps 
on the northern and southern borders of the State, the Union voters 
of Kentucky were laying their plans for the election of a Legislature, 
a majority of the members of which should be loyal. In this they 
succeeded, and the Legislature so constituted met on the 2d of Sep- 
tember, 1 86 1. It so happened that on the third of the month General 
Polk, who commanded a large body of Confederate troops in Western 
Tennessee, moved some of his forces into Kentucky. The Legislature 
of that State seized upon this as a violation of the neutrality of the 
State, and immediately passed resolutions declaring that Kentucky was 
in accord with the national government. Thereafter the State stood 
with the States of the North, and a bitter blow it was to the Con- 
federacy. Before the end of the first year of the war Kentucky gave 
to the Union twenty-eight regiments of infantry, six of cavalry, and 
three batteries. 

The loss of Kentucky left two gaps in the Confederate line east 
of the Mississippi. West of that great river the rich State of Missouri 
was expected to act as the vanguard of the Southern Confederacy. 
The story of how Missouri was saved to the Union is the tale of 
one of the most interesting episodes of the w^r. It is a most strik- 
ing evidence of what may be accomplished in trying times by one or 
two men of indomitable will, unflagging energy, and great audacity. 
Kentucky was saved by the existence of a wide-spread feeling of 
loyalty to the Union. Missouri was saved by the pluck of two men, 
— Francis P. Blair and Capt. Nathaniel Lyon, of the United States 
army. 

At the outbreak of hostilities Missouri was torn by factions. The 
great body of the people, beyond any doubt, desired to emulate the 
example of Kentucky, and preserve a strict neutrality. Next to these 
in point of numbers were the outspoken secessionists, among whom 



82 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

were to be found the governor of the State and most of the more 
prominent politicians. The loyal party was the smallest of the three, 
and was composed chiefly of Germans, large numbers of whom had 
settled in the eastern part of the State. But, though small in numbers, 
the Union men were rich in able leaders ; and as a result, when the 
governor of the State called a convention to discuss the proposition 
to take the State out of the Union, the unionists and the neutral party 
combined their forces with such effect that not a single secessionist 
was elected as a delegate. 

This for a time dampened the ardor of the secessionists, but 
the)' soon resumed their activity. The news of the attack upon Fort 
Sumter stirred them to open rejoicing. Then came Lincoln's demand 
for seventy-five thousand men, to which the Governor of Missouri 
responded that the call for troops was " illegal, unconstitutional, and 
revolutionary, in its objects inhuman and diabolical. Not one 

man will Missouri furnish to carry on such an unholy crusade." 

But. though the worthy governor thus scornfully declined to furnish 
any troops to uphold the Union, he had for some months been raising 
and drilling forces intended to cooperate with the Confederates; these 
forces, known as the minute-men, were enrolled as the regular militia 
of the State. In one item alone were the governor's warlike prepara- 
tions faulty. He had failed to secure arms for his troops. This lack 
he proposed to meet by capturing the Federal arsenal in St. Louis, 
and it was in that project that he was met and checkmated by Blair 
and Lyon. 

Blair was a politician; Lyon, a soldier. Both were identified heart 
and soul with the Union cause, and, working in harmony, each along 
his own lines, they were enabled to save the State to the Union. Hear- 
ing that Governor Jackson was organizing the secessionists under the 
name of " minute-men," Blair proceeded to do similar work among 
the Union sympathizers, giving to the troops thus raised the name of 
" Home Guards." Thus two rival militia organizations were drilling in 
the State of Missouri, both unarmed, and both under the flag of the 



BATTLE FIELP&-OF '6i. 83 

United States. The arms necessary to supply these troops were in 
the St. Louis arsenal, and both Jackson and Blair determined to secure 
them ; the former by force, and the latter by means of his political 
influence at Washington. 

The plan of the secessionists was wily. A State law provided 
that the governor should annually order the militia into camp for 
drill and discipline. In accordance with this law the governor was 
to call out the militia, choosing as the site for the camp certain hill- 
sides that were near the arsenal, and thoroughly commanded it. 
There the troops were to remain until an opportunity to seize the 
arsenal should present itself. Until the capture of the arsenal should 
be achieved, the militia-men bore arms of the most varied character. 
Two six-pounder guns without limbers or caissons, about one thousand 
muskets, forty sabres and fifty-eight swords, and several hundred hunting 
rifles made up the total of arms which the quartermaster-general found 
available. As for the swords, he said they were of an antique Roman 
pattern, and " would not be as useful in war as so many bars of soap." 

Clearly with such faulty munitions of war, even so petty an achieve- 
ment as the capture of the arsenal could not be attempted ; therefore 
special messengers were sent to Jefferson Davis, at Montgomery, to 
ask for aid. Word soon came that the Confederate chieftain had 
promised to send two cannon, and Governor Jackson forthwith ordered 
his men into camp and made ready for the attack. 

In the mean time what were the Union men doing ? Blair and 
Lyon were not to be caught napping, even by so clever a plot as 
that conceived by the wily governor. Their secret agents kept them 
well informed of everything that went on at the enemy's headquarters, 
and they soon put themselves in readiness to beat him with his own 
weapons. The first move was to get Captain Lyon appointed to the 
chief command of the arsenal. This done, Lyon issued a great part 
of the arms to the " Home Guards," and sent the rest over into Illinois 
for safe-keeping. This in itself sufficiently balked the project of the 
secessionists. 



84 BATll.E FIELDS OF '6i. 



Captain Lyon, however, was not content to stop with this. He 
was a thorough soldier, invincible in will, and inflexible in devotion to 
the Hag of his country. \^c had followed that flag across many a 
hard-fought battle-field in Mexico, and had suftered at least one wound 
in its service. Ho had been repeatedly promoted and honored, and 
always because of his energy and quickness of thought and action. 
These qualities were notably displayed in an encounter he once had 
with three mounted Indians, who rode upon him swiftly and caught 
him almost unawares. The first of his assailants Lyon killed with a 
shot from his carbine. The second was instantly run through by the 
blade of his sabre. The third, thinking he had encountered a devil, 
and not a man, made ofl" with such speed that Lyon could not reload 
in time to get a shot at him. When to this sketch of the man's 
character is added the fact that he was an uncompromising hater of 
slavery, it will be readily understood that he was not content with a 
merely diplomatic victory over the secessionists, but sought an oppor- 
tunity to overawe and crush them with the sword. 

Having determined to make war upon the secessionists, L}-on had 
not long to wait for an opportunity, or a pretext. Walking one night 
on the levee, he stood idly watching the unloading of a steamer 
which had just arrived from Memphis. The weight of some packing- 
cases, under which even the sturdy roustabouts groaned, attracted his 
attention, and he went over to examine them more closely. The 
address they bore was undecipherable, and the only thing about them 
to indicate the character of their contents was the label, " Marble." 
But as Lyon looked upon them he thought of the rumored appeal of 
the secessionists to Jefl"erson Davis for arms, and he determined to 
follow these mysterious packing-boxes to their destination. While he 
was debating the matter some heavy drays drove up. and soon left 
the wharf carrying the cases. L)on followed, and found his suspicions 
verified. The boxes were left at the gate of Camp Jackson. 

The next day. among the crowd o\' pleasure vehicles that drove 
out from the city to watch the soldiers at their drill was an open 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 85 

carriage, containing a gentleman and a closely veiled lady. The lady 
seemed to manifest an unusual and intelligent interest in military affairs, 
and the carriage was driven all through the camp until it reached a 
spot where some soldiers were opening several heavy packing-cases 
labelled " Marble." This operation the lady watched with lively interest, 
and when the opening of the boxes disclosed to view two twelve- 
pounder howitzers and two thirty-two-pounder cannon, with shot and 
shell for all, she gave a start of satisfaction. Then the driver drove 
on out of the camp, back into the city and straight to the arsenal. 
The lady alighted, proceeded with a rather military and masculine 
stride to enter, and once within stripped off her bonnet, veil, and 
dress, and appeared as Capt. Nathaniel Lyon, in the full uniform of 
a United States soldier. 

Summoning the leading unionists to a council, Lyon told them 
■ of his discovery, and declared that he proposed to lead his troops 
against Camp Jackson the next morning. Some protested against so 
daring a movement, but Lyon's inflexible will bore down all opposition. 
He declared that, though the United States flag floated over the camp, 
it was, nevertheless, a nest of traitors, and he proposed " to capture the 
camp and the men in it, both the officers and the enlisted men, with 
all its material of war ; to demand a surrender, with his men in line 
of battle and his cannon in position ; and if the demand was not 
complied with at once, to fight for it." And this programme he 
substantially carried out the next day. 

Rumors of the intended attack reached the secessionists, but they 
made no preparation for defence ; and so when, early in the after- 
noon, Lyon, with his four regiments and heavy cannon, appeared on 
the scene and deployed his troops so as to completely surround the 
camp, the secessionists had nothing to do but to surrender. Then 
stacking their arms, and leaving their new cannon on the ground, the 
disarmed secessionists were marched back to the city, where they were 
released upon parole. On the way a crowd of Southern sympathizers 
followed the troops, cheering for Jefferson Davis, waving handkerchiefs. 



86 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

and cursing the Germans, who made up the majority of Lyon's troops. 
At last some shots were fired by the mob ; the soldiers wheeled and 
returned the fire. When the smoke cleared away more than twenty 
of the rioters were seen to have been hit. 

Such was the first step toward holding Missouri for the Union, 
In itself it was decisive, for never after that day did the secessionists 
in St. Louis dare to make open preparations for war. But Lyon, 
not content with this, made preparations to seize the State capital. 
He had, by this time, been commissioned brigadier-general, and had 
under his command more than ten thousand men. The governor, 
seeking to save the State from the horrors of civil war, sought an 
interview with the determined soldier, and strove to make a treaty 
which should assure the neutrality of Missouri. The conference was 
held in a St. Louis hotel, and a number of citizens were present. 
One of them thus describes the cavalier manner in which the soldier 
cut short the debate : — 

"'Rather,' said he (he was still seated, and spoke deliberately, 
slowly, and with a peculiar emphasis), ' rather than concede to the 
State of Missouri the right to demand that my government shall 
not enlist troops within her limits, or bring troops into the State 
whenever it pleases, or move its troops at its own will into, out of, 
or through the State, — rather than concede to the State of Missouri 
for one single instant the right to dictate to my government in any 
matter, however unimportant, I would ' (rising as he said this, and 
pointing in turn to every one in the room) ' see you, and you, and 
you. and you, and you, and ever)- man, woman, and child in the State 
dead and buried.' Then, turning to the governor, he said, ' This 
means war. In an hour one of my officers will call for you, and 
conduct you out of my lines.' And then, without another word, with- 
out an inclination of the head, without even a look, he turned upon 
his heel and strode out o\' the room, rattling his spurs and clanging 
his sabre, while we whom he had left, and who had known each 
other for )'ears, bade farewell to each other courteously and kindly. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 87 

and separated, — Blair and Conant to fight for the Union, we for the 
land of our birth." 

With Lyon to speak was to act. Four days thereafter he was in 
the State capital with an armed force. Governor Jackson and the 
State officials fled southward, and the secessionists, thus robbed of their 
power at the capital, and in the largest city of the State, never re- 
covered their organization sufficiently to attempt to carry the State 
out of the Union. Fighting there was, and plenty of it, on Missouri 
soil, and in one battle General Lyon laid down his life. But, before 
the serious fighting begun, his pluck and determination had carried the 
day for the Federal authority in Missouri. 

In Delaware and Maryland, slave States both, secessionist sentiment 
made little headway. In the former State the first effort to stir up a 
revolt against the Union was quietly suppressed by the action of the 
Legislature, and thenceforward no attention was given to the State by 
the Southern leaders. In Maryland, as we have seen, there was some 
turbulence at the outset; but the secessionists were chiefly the towns- 
folk, and the countrymen retained their love for the Union. To win 
this State to the cause of the South, the Confederates made every 
eff"ort. Orators were sent to Maryland ; her people were exhorted to 
link their fortunes with the South ; the song " My Maryland " was sung 
in all the armies of the Confederacy. Finally Lee sent his forces 
into the State, in the hope that the sight of the gray uniforms might 
awaken the enthusiasm of the people. But all to no avail. Maryland 
remained loyal to the last. 





CHAPTER V. 

ACTIVITY OF THE CONFEDERATES. THE FEDERALS CROSS THE POTOMAC. DE.ATH OF 

ELLSWORTH. BATTLE OF BIG BETHEL. THE AMBUSCADE OX THE R.\ILROAD. 

MeCLELLAN IN WEST VIRGINLA. BATTLE OF RICH MOUNTAIN. DE.ATH OF GEN- 

ER.\L GARNEIT. 



>R a month after the surrender of Fort Sumter hardly a 

shot was fired by either belHgerent. Each was preparing 

K^O for the impending struggle. In the North, troops were 

being enlisted in every State and hastily sent for\vard to 




Washington. The Southern leaders were massing their troops in Northern 
Virginia, at a small village known as Manassas, about thirt\' miles from 
Washington. Between those two points the first great battle of the 
war was to be fought. 

Among the Confederates the greatest activity prevailed. All along 
the south bank of the Potomac below Washington the\- built batteries, 
seeking to prevent vessels from ascending the river for the purpose 
of carrying reenforcements to the capital. A flotilla of tug-boats, 
carrying one thirt\--two pounder each, was then put on the river by 

88 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 89 

the Federals, and encounters between these craft and the Confederate 
batteries were frequent, but unimportant. Over all the ground between 
the Confederate base at Manassas and the bank of the Potomac before 
Washington the Confederate engineers travelled, making surveys, drawing 
maps, choosing points for fortifications, and preparing in every way 
for the forward march of the Confederate army. All this time the 
troops in Washington were idle. No notice was taken of the Confed- 
erate activity, and before the Union authorities were stirred to action 
the Confederate picket line was posted along the bank of the Potomac, 
and the engineers were laying out fortifications from which cannon-shot 
could have been thrown into the streets of the city. P>om his window 
in the White House President Lincoln could see the Confederate flag 
floating on the heights across the river, and with a good field-glass 
he could see the engineers at their work. Clearly it was time for the 
Union forces to bestir themselves. 

There were then in Washington troops to the number of about 
thirteen thousand. Thus far the war had been one long holiday for 
them. Well quartered in the great public buildings of the capital, 
well fed, subjected to only the lightest discipline, and finding in drill 
and standing guard their severest toil, they were still mere holiday 
soldiers. But this period of their service soon came to an end. 
Gen. Winfield Scott, a veteran soldier of the Union, was then in 
command of the forces. He shrunk from giving the order that should 
send an invading force into Virginia, hoping that, despite the headway 
that the insurrection had made, the horrors of civil war might still be 
averted. But on the 23d of May, 1861, General Mansfield hurried 
to the office of the general-in-chief with news so important that it 
changed the whole situation. It appeared that that afternoon a young 
Union officer had crossed the river in a boat, and while .near the south- 
ern bank his attention had been attracted by a number of men on 
ArHngton Heights. With a powerful spy-glass he scanned them closely, 
and recognized, in the most prominent figure, Robert E. Lee, the militar)' 
adviser of President Davis, and the officer who afterwards became gen- 



90 lurri.K kiki.ds of "Cm. 

eral-in-chiof of the Confederate forces. It needed but a very little 
scrutin}' to convince the observer that Lee was laying out fortifications 
upon those coniinanding" heights, and. knowing that a strong battery 
posted there would hold \\'ashingtt>n at its niercv, the )'oung officer 
hastenetl back to report his discover)' to his general. 

The danger impending was at once evident to General Scott, and 
he speedily gave orders that the Union forces should cross the Potomac 
and occup\' the hills that bordered the Virginia bank o\' the ri\-er. 
That night there was stir and bustle in the camps and quarters of the 
Union troops. B\- mitlnight all was ready, and at two o'clock on the 
morning o( the 24th the roll o\ the drum and the tramp o( armed 
feet were heanl in the streets o\ the cit>\ The southward march of 
the army o\' the L^nion had begun. 

The advance was made in three columns. Two bridges spanned 
the Potomac before Washington, and by each of these a column crossed 
into \'irginia. Their advance was unresisted, and unaccompanied by 
any incidents of note. The third division of the army, led by the 
famous Ellsworth Zouaves, crossed the river in schooners and seized 
the town of Alexandria. This place was filled with Confederate sym- 
pathizers, and for weeks past a Confederate flag flying from the roof 
of its chief hotel had been noted b\- the loyal people of Washington, 
and had even been \-isible from the windows o\ the White House. 
Colonel Ellsworth, marching at the head of his regiment, remembered 
this flag, and as soon as the town was completely in control of the Union 
forces he went to tear it down with his own hands. It was a rash act; 
but the war was still young, and officers were apt to be carried awa\' 
b\- their enthusiasm. Fwo soldiers accompanied him to the house. 

"Whose flag is that?" he demanded of a man who stood in the 
doi.>r. 

" 1 don't know," was the cool response. 

" It must be taken ilown at once." 

" Go and take it, if you want it." responded the secessionist, turning 
on his heel aiul walkiiisj awaw 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 91 

Followed by his companions, Ellsworth ascended to the roof of the 
house, cut the halliards, and throwing the flag over his arm began 
to descend. Just as he reached the second floor a door opening upon 
the hallway was thrown open, and a man sprang out, levelled a 
double-barrelled shot-gun, and discharged it full at the breast of the 
unfortunate officer. The gun was loaded with buckshot, and the fatal 
charge drove before it, almost into the heart of the murdered man, a 
gold badge that he wore pinned upon his breast, and that bore the 
motto, ''Noil nobis sed pro patria." Slain instantly by the fearful wound, 
Ellsworth fell forward without a groan. Then the sound of another 
gunshot rang through the house as one of Ellsworth's companions 
sent a bullet through the brain of the murderer, and followed it by 
plunging his sabre-bayonet again and again into his body. Then the 
wife of the dead secessionist came rushing from her room, threw herself 
upon the body of her husband, and called upon him in tones so 
piteous that even the Zouaves, mad with rage as they were, could 
scarce conceal their pity. The group about the two dead bodies in 
the dark and narrow hall made a scene at once dramatic and appal- 
ling. It was described in the vivid phrases of the newspaper corre- 
spondents in all parts of the country the next day, and carried a thrill 
to thousands of hearts North and South. Each of the two dead men 
was called a hero and a martyr by those who sympathized with the 
cause which he represented. 

The Potomac having been crossed, the troops were occupied for 
some time in fortifying the advantageous positions they had gained. 
Among the points held by the Federals were Mount Vernon, the 
home of Washington, and Arlington House, the family seat of Robert 
E. Lee. The former place, throughout the war, was recognized by 
both belligerents as, in a certain sense, neutral ground, and though the 
tide of war surged back and forth before it, no act of violence was 
ever committed within its bounds. Arlington House was one of the 
chief points in the Union line of defence, and though the soldiers of 
the blue showed every willingness to respect and protect the property 



92 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



of their great ad\ersar\'. General Lee, sentiment had at last to give 
way to the stern dictates of military necessity. The mighty oaks 
that shaded the grounds about the house were felled, and the lawns 
and gardens were torn up b\- tramp of marching men, or disfigured 
by long lines of earthworks. Before the war ended the place passed 
wholly out of the hands of the Lees, and it is to-day a national 
cemetery, in which lie the bones of over sixteen thousand soldiers who 
laid down their lives in the cause of the Union. 

Let us now transfer our attention from that part of Virginia 
adjacent to Washington to the historic region of the Old Dominion, 
at the extreme end of the peninsula formed by the York and James 
rivers. There stood Fortress Monroe, well garrisoned b}' New York and 
Massachusetts troops, under the command of General Butler. All 
around was the country of the secessionists, save to the eastward, 
where the waves of the great ocean tossed and roared. The Con- 
federates, fearing that Fortress Monroe might be made a base of 
operations for the L^nion troops, were busil\- engaged in throwing up 
earthworks and drawing lines of defence, which, when completed and 
properly manned, would hem in the Federal soldiers. In this work 
the slaves were employed in great numbers. Several of them escaped 
to Fortress Monroe, whither the\- were quickly followed by their 
masters, who demanded that they should be given up. Butler was 
troubled at first, for he disliked to surrender the slaves ; yet his in- 
structions had been to respect the rights of property, and slaves were 
property. At last he hit upon the idea. 

" Hold on a moment," he exclaimed to a slave-owner who was 
energeticall}- pressing his claim ; " you say that this man is your 
property, and that I am ordered to respect the rights of private 
ownership. That's true enough. But you might own a hundred 
muskets, or fifty cavalry sabres, with which you intended to arm a 
Confederate troop. In that case I should be perfectly justified in 
seizing the arms as contraband of war. Now, these negroes have been 
employed by you in building Confederate fortifications. If I return 



battlf: fields of '6i. 93 

them to you they will again be set at the same work. They are, 
therefore, as much part of your war material as cannon or sabres 
would be, and as an officer of the United States I confiscate them as 
contraband of war." 

The disappointed slave-owners bowed themselves out. The country 
laughed at General Butler's clever reasoning, but the decision held good. 
Thereafter negroes were " contrabands," and when one of them reached 
the Union lines his shackles fell off and he became free. 

Now it happened that, in the early part of June, one of the contra- 
bands who had reached the fort announced that at Big Bethel, a little way 
up the peninsula, the Confederates were throwing up some very formida- 
ble earthworks. General Butler had by this time conceived the idea that 
the way to get to Richmond (then the capital of the Confederacy) was not 
to send troops across the country from Washington, but to march them 
straight up the peninsula from Fortress Monroe. Clearly, then, it would 
never do to let the enemy block the path with earthworks and batteries ; 
so immediate preparations were made for an expedition against the 
Confederate forces at Big and Little Bethel. The plan of attack 
contemplated two distinct attacking columns; one was to march from 
Hampton under Duryea, the other from Newport News under Colonel 
Bendix. In order that they might recognize each other when they met, 
they were to wear white rags tied upon the left arm, and before rushing 
forward to the attack all were to shout "Boston!" Unluckily the officer 
who was detailed to give these instructions to Colonel Bendix forgot to 
do it. As a result the two columns met in the road near Little Bethel. 
The soldiers under Duryea's command saw confronting them a body of 
men wearing no distinctive strip of white. The watchword " Boston " 
was given, but there was no response. Then an attack was ordered, and 
before the blunder was discovered volleys had been exchanged, and two 
dead men and ten badly wounded lay in the road. 

" How can I go back and look General Butler in the face ! " cried 
in agony the officer to whose forgetfulness this horror was due. 

Waiting a few hours at the scene of this skirmish for reenforcements, 



94 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

the Federals again took up the march. But the shouts and volleys of 
musketry had given the enemy warning of their approach, and by the 
time the attacking column reached Big Bethel, General Magruder was 
securely posted in his entrenchments, fresh, vigilant, and ready to 
receive the attack. Though exhausted by an all-night march, the 
blue-coats at once began the assault ; but were beaten back after a sharp 
conflict, in which the Federal troops again suffered by mistaking some of 
their own number for a detachment of the enemy. Reenforcements 
arrived while the battle was going on, and were ordered to the front, to 
cover the retreat of the weary soldiers who had borne the brunt of the 
battle. In killed, wounded, and missing the Federals in this engagement 
lost fifty men, while the loss of the Confederates was trifling. To the 
people of the North the defeat was a bitter blow, while the Southerners 
magnified it into a magnificent victory. As a matter of fact, it was but 
an insignificant skirmish, notable chiefly for the blunders made by the 
inexperienced troops engaged, and deriving its importance mainly from 
the fact that it was virtually the first battle of the war.^ 

The scene of military activity now shifts to the northern part of 
Virginia, and to that part of the State which was, at the time of which 
we write, still a part of the Old Dominion, but which is now West 
Virginia. The student of military operations readily sees that, from the 
day the Union troops marched from Washington into Virginia, every- 
thing pointed to a great battle at an early day for the possession of 
Northern Virginia. Federals and Confederates were practically occupying 
the same territory. Their picket lines touched at many points. Federal 
troops, being sent from one point to another by rail, were often fired 
upon by wandering bands of the enemy, even though the railroad was 
thought to be wholly within the Union lines. One such occurrence is 
worth noting. 

A train on the Baltimore and Ohio" Railroad, carrying four companies 

1 The actions at Matthias Point on the Potomac being, so far as the Union forces were concerned, 
part of the naval operations of the war, are not described here, but will be found treated in detail in 
"Blue Jackets of '6i," page 41. 




PAi.h . 5. — Rattle fields of '61. 



ATTACKING A RAILWAY TRAIN. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 97 

of Federal troops, was backing along the road near the little town of 
Vienna. A regiment of Confederates had established an ambuscade near 
the railway, and, with two cannon planted on the track in a deep 
cut, awaited the coming of the train. As the cars came in sight the 
cannon were discharged, and their load of grape and canister crashed 
through the train, but did little damage, being aimed too high. The 
engineer, who had his engine attached to the rear of the train, pushing 
it along, instead of reversing and pulling the whole train out of the trap, 
hastily drew the coupling and fled, leaving the four cars standing on the 
track. While the bullets from the Confederate rifles were coming into 
the cars thick and fast, the Federals leaped out and fled across the 
fields to a friendly cluster of woods, where they formed their ranks and 
made a show of resistance. Why the Confederates did not boldly 
advance, and make prisoners of them all, can only be conjectured. At 
any rate, they did not ; and after destroying the train and its freight they 
marched away, leaving the handful of Union men to congratulate them- 
selves upon their escape from a force more than four times their 
superior. 

There was fighting in West Virginia in June, i86i. The Federal 
troops had entered the State to encourage the loyal people who had 
determined to keep the State in the Union. The Confederates sent 
invading columns through the mountain passes of the Alleghanies, in 
hopes that by a show of force they could prevent the West Virginians 
from taking any action hostile to the Confederacy. The first collision 
between the hostile forces was at Phillipi, where a Confederate regi- 
ment, under Colonel Porterfield, was encamped. An overwhelming force 
of Federals made a descent upon the camp, and though a woman by 
the roadside gave the alarm by firing two shots from a revolver, the 
Federals succeeded in surprising the Confederates, and threw them into 
a hopeless rout. A vast amount of baggage, camp furniture, ammu- 
nition, and a large number of prisoners fell into the hands of the 
victors. 

Smarting under the defeat, but in nowise disheartened, the Con- 



98 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



federates sent more troops over the mountains, under the command of 
General Garnett. This ofificer set to work to fortify the passes and rocky 
defiles of the mountains, and soon had several strong batteries erected 
on the heights about Beverly, Laurel Hill, and Rich Mountain Gap. 
These works commanded the passes leading to Virginia, and were, 
therefore, of great military importance. 

In command of the Union forces in West Virginia was General 
McClellan, an officer whom we shall see later as the general-in-chief 
of the United States forces. He recognized the importance of the 
positions held by Garnett, and determined to dislodge him. His first 
step to that end was to read to his troops a somewhat grandiloquent 
harangue, in which he said, "I now fear but one thing, — that you 
will not find foemen worthy of your steel." When the four years of 
bitter fighting that followed are remembered, the fears of the general 
hardly seem well founded. 

Having made his speech, McClellan led his men up into the moun- 
tains. A detachment under General Morris was sent to confront 
Garnett at Beverly, and hold his attention, while McClellan, with the 
main body of the army, took a circuitous route which should bring 
him to the rear of Garnett's works. But the Union commander soon 
discovered that the Confederate was no novice in war, and had not 
left his rear unprotected. One of the scouting parties which preceded 
the Union column came in and reported that the road to Garnett's 
rear was commanded by a line of earthworks mounting four cannon, 
rifle-pits enough for two regiments, and auxiliary defences that made 
the position impregnable. A halt was at once ordered, and this new 
problem was grappled with. 

This was at Rich Mountain. The works were those of Colonel 
Pegram, and were held by about two thousand men. But, despite their 
formidable character, McClellan had determined to attack them in front, 
when General Rosecrans came to his tent with a young farmer, who 
declared himself able to lead a detachment around to the rear of 
Pegram's works. Rosecrans offered to command the expedition, which 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. gg 

it was determined should start at daybreak the next morning. Through 
a blunder, the drums in the Union camp beat at midnight, putting the 
en^my on his guard. Therefore, when Rosecrans, after ten hours of 
severe climbing, up steep mountain roads, through a driving wind, and 
deprived of the services of his guide, who became frightened and ran 
away, drew near the rear of Pegram's camp, he suddenly found himself 
in an ambuscade which the enemy had prepared for him. From the 
woods on either side of the road came a rapid and destructive fire 
of musketry, while from a hastily erected breastwork of logs a single 
cannon hurled grape-shot into the ranks of the assailants. For an 
hour or two the Federals skirmished from behind stone walls and trees, 
then rallying, made a charge which carried all before it. This was just 
in time, for Pegram was sending up reenforcements, with another cannon. 
The charge of the Federals over the breastwork frightened the team 
of four horses that stood harnessed to the caisson of the cannon posted 
there. Snorting with fear, the horses dashed down the steep and 
narrow road, and crashing into the cannon and team coming up, all 
were thrown over the precipitous edge of the road and cast into 
the valley below. Having lost their cannon, the Confederate reenforce- 
ments returned to Pegram, and the defenders of the breastwork fled 
in the same direction. 

This was the battle of Rich Mountain, fought on July ii, i86i, 
and its result determined the outcome of the campaign against Garnett. 
Pegram could not hold his position with Rosecrans' strong force in his 
rear, and was forced to retreat. This left Garnett's rear exposed, and 
he, too, had to abandon his position. As the flanking movement of 
the Federals had left them in possession of the roads to Virginia, 
Garnett was forced to undertake a long march, in the hope of gaining 
one of the more southerly passes. McClellan followed fast on his trail, 
and, in a skirmish at Carrick's Ford, the Confederate general was shot 
through the head while trying to rally his troops. Soon after, Pegram, 
with nearly six hundred men, surrendered, and the remainder of the 
Confederate army was hopelessly dispersed. P>om these reverses the 



100 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



Confederate cause in West Virginia never fully recovered. The people 
of the North exulted greatly in the success of the Federals, and were 
loud in their praises of General McClellan. The chief credit, however, 
was due to General Rosecrans. Later in the war his merit was recog- 
nized, and under the soldiers' nickname of " Old Rough and Ready " 
he gained a high place in the estimation of the people. 





CHAPTER VI. 

"ON TO RICHMOND." THE PEOPLE DEMAND AN INVASION OF CONFEDERATE TERRITORY. 

GENERAL McDOWELL'S PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. OPERATIONS IN THE SHENANDOAH 

VALLEY. PATTERSON'S CAMPAIGN. THE ADVANCE TO BULL RUN. A SKIRMISH. — 

THE PLAN OF BATTLE. MACHINERY TO THE FRONT. JACKSON LIKE A STONE WALL. 

THE DISASTER TO GRIFFIN'S BATTERY. DEFEAT OF THE UNION ARMY. THE 

RETREAT TO WASHINGTON. 




EARLY three months had now elapsed since the firing on 
Fort Sumter, and the promulgation of President Lincoln's 
call for seventy-five thousand men. The volunteers who 
responded to that call had been enlisted for a term of 
three months. In the monotony of camp life, with constant routine and 
drill, most of them had passed their term of sisrvice. Those who 
followed McClellan into West Virginia, or who marched in Butler's 
ill-starred expedition against Big Bethel, alone had smelled gunpowder. 
Of the remainder of the levy of seventy-five thousand men the great 
majority were in camp at Washington, or manning the earthworks on the 
south bank of the Potomac river. 

101 



102 BATTLE FIELDS OF '61. 

In the mean time the people were i^ettini^ impatient. Unacquainted 
with the tremendous difficulties encountered in makini^ a disciplined army 
out of a levy of undisciplined militia, they were loud in their demands 
for immediate action. " On to Richmond ! " was the cry throughout the 
North, and the newspapers, the politicians, and the spokesmen of the 
people brought tremendous pressure to bear upon the President and 
General Scott to induce them to undertake an active campaign in 
Virginia. Against this pressure the authorities remained firm for some 
time. General Scott was too old a veteran to be ignorant of the folly 
of undertaking a campaign of invasion with a half-disciplined army. 
Moreover, the term of service of the volunteers had nearly expired, and 
the general who should lead a column into Virginia was confronted with 
the possibility of losing half his soldiers before the campaign was 
ended. 

But. though the President and the general-in-chief were undeniably 
correct in their views upon the matter, they were unable wholly to with- 
stand the pressure of the people. As the news of the disasters at Big 
Bethel and Vienna became known, the popular clamor increased. To the 
arguments and remonstrances of Lincoln and Scott the people turned a 
deaf ear. Though Virginia roads might be almost impassable for mud, 
though the Federal troops might be half-drilled and wholly unfit for 
service on the battle-field, though the Confederates might be prepared to 
fiercely resist the movement, one thing alone could satisfy the North, and 
that was an immediate advance of the Federal forces against Richmond, 
the Confederate capital. 

At length the popular clamor became so great that General Scott 
was forced, though sorely against his better judgment, to yield. Accord- 
ingly Brigadier-General McDowell, who was in command of all the 
Union forces south of the Potomac, was directed to prepare plans for 
the advance of his arm\' to the southward, bearing in mind the 
possibility of a battle with the forces of the enemy. After some days 
his plan of campaign was matured, and explained to the President, by 
the aid of militarx' maps, in the presence of the cabinet and a number 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 103 

of prominent military commanders. This, in brief, was the plan he 
suggested. 

At Manassas Junction, about thirty-five miles from Washington, two 
railroads meet. The one comes direct from the south and from Rich- 
mond, the other leads westward to the fertile valley of the Shenandoah. 
Holding this point, the Confederates held the key to the railway system 
of Virginia. Recognizing this, they had thrown up earthworks about 
the Junction, and had established an advanced line of defence along the 
bank of a little stream known as Bull Run. The Confederate forces 
numbered about twenty-five thousand, and were in command of General 
Beauregard, who had been McDowell's classmate at West Point. Against 
this force McDowell proposed to lead an army of thirty thousand 
Federals, and drive the Confederates from their position. 

But before embarking upon this undertaking McDowell had one 
stipulation to make. He pointed out on the map the railroad extending 
from Manassas to the Shenandoah valley. This railroad, being within 
the enemy's line, he could not cut or destroy until the enemy had been 
defeated. In the mean time it was at the service of Beauregard as a 
means of bringing him reenforcements. Moreover, the reenforcements 
were near at hand, for in the Shenandoah valley was the Confederate 
General Johnston, with a force of more than ten thousand men. 

" I can beat Beauregard's force with an army of thirty thousand 
men," said McDowell; "but you must see to it that Johnston does 
not bring his troops out of the Shenandoah valley to his aid." 

" General Patterson, with an army of far greater strength, confronts 
Johnston at Harper's Ferry," answered General Scott. " You may make 
your plans in full reliance that Johnston will be kept in the valley, or 
that if he docs move it will be with Patterson's twenty thousand men 
at his heels." 

Then the conference broke up, and the officers of McDowell's 
staff were soon busying themselves in preparations for the southward 
advance of the Union army, which, b}' the President's order, was to 
begin one week later. But one impediment after another was inter- 



m4 lUlTLE FIELDS OF '61. 

posed to check the movement of the troops. Provisions, ammunition, 
wagons, and teams, all had to be brought together. All this took 
time, and instead of one week, more than two weeks passed b)' before 
the march for Manassas was begun. 

riie dehiN' was of service to the Confederates, for two reasons. 
Their spies, who moved freel\- about the streets of Washington by- 
day, and stealthily paddled across the Potomac under cover of the 
darkness, kept them fully informed o( the progress of McDowell's 
preparations, and thoy were therefore enabled to make deliberate and 
unhurried plans for his repulse. Moreover, the delay gave General 
K>hnston. over whom General Patterson was supposed to be mounting 
guard in the Shenandoah valley, an opportunit\' to mystify and puzzle 
his adversary, and tinalh- to wholly elude him and reach Manassas 
in time to deal the winning blow in the battle of Bull Run. 

Let us look at the operations in the valle\' of the Shenandoah, and 
see how completel\- the astute Confederate outwitted his opponent. 

General Patterson, in command of the Union forces in Pennsyl- 
vania, was a veteran of the War of 1S12 and the war with Mexico. 
His long service and the laurels ho had won in his }-outh had gained 
him this important command at the ver\- outset o\' the Civil War. For 
the tirst few months he was kept awa)' from active hostilities, spending 
his time in organizing and recruiting his arm\-. He longed to meet 
the enemy, however, and wrote again and again to his superior 
officers, begging permission to attack Johnston, who was then stationed 
at Harper's Ferry. 

*' The importance of a victory at Harper's Ferry. " he wrote to 
the Secretar)' of War. " cannut he estimated. I cannot sleep for thinking 
about it. ... I beseech }'ou. therefore, b\- oiu' ancient friendship, 
give me the means of success. Vou have the means ; place them at 
m\- disposal, and shoot me if I do not use them to advantage." 

After repeated appeals his wish was granted. With an ami)- of 
seventeen regiments he began his .ulvance, expecting to encounter a 
desperate resistance. 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 105 

"The insurgents are strongly entrenched," he had written, "have 
an immense number of guns, and will contest every inch of ground." 

What, then, was his surprise, when, after a leisurely march of some 
days, his van reached the Potomac river, only to find that the Con- 
federates had spiked their heavy guns, burned the railroad bridge, and 
evacuated the town. He could hardly believe the reports of his 
scouts, who crossed the river and reconnoitred the deserted works. 
The chief officers of Patterson's staff were no less mystified. " I 
believe it is designed for a decoy," wrote Fitz John Porter, chief-of- 
staff, to Cadwallader, second in command ; and Cadwallader wrote back, 
" The whole thing is a riddle to me." Not for forty-eight hours did 
Patterson fully comprehend that Johnston had abandoned this position 
he thought so precious. Then he wrote to General Scott, " They 
have fled, and in confusion. Their retreat is as demoralizing as a 
defeat; and, as the leaders will never be caught, more beneficial to 
our cause. Harper's Ferry has been retaken without firing a gun." 

" What niovement, if any, in pursuit of the enemy, do you pro- 
pose to make consequent on the evacuation of Harper's Ferry ? " 
was General Scott's response to Patterson's grandiloquent letter. 

"Design no pursuit; cannot make it," replied Patterson; and so 
for a time the campaign ended. 

But why was it that Johnston had thus tamely abandoned Harper's 
Ferry to the Federals ? Had he, as Patterson declared, " fled and in 
confusion," before the advance of a superior force ? History tells a 
different story. 

Among the many able soldiers that directed the fortunes of the 
gray-clad ranks of the Confederacy, there were few of more ability 
and higher standing in the profession of arms than General Johnston. 
Ordered by the Confederate authorities to hold Harper's Ferry, he 
had speedily discovered that it was a point of no military importance, 
hard to defend, and commanding nothing of value ; neither a railroad, 
a navigable stream, nor even a good turnpike. At once he began 
applying to the authorities at Richmond for leave to abandon the place. 



106 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

For a time his appeals were disregarded. " To abandon Harper's 
Ferry," wrote General Lee, " would be depressing to the cause of the 
South." But at last permission came, authorizing him to use his own 
discretion ; but with a warning that the movement would " bring in its 
train political consequences " which he " could not contemplate with- 
out the most painful emotions." But Johnston was a soldier, not a 
politician, and even before this letter arrived he had spiked his guns, 
burnt his quarters, and retired in good order, neither suffering from 
"painful emotions" nor flying in confusion. 

This was in the middle of June. For a month thereafter the 
Confederate army occupied the village of Winchester, while the Fed- 
erals centred at Harper's Ferry. Neither made any offensive movements, 
though, as the time for the advance of McDowell's army to Manassas 
drew near, General Scott tried to spur Patterson with messages of 
ill-concealed criticism. 

On the 25th of June he telegraphed: "Remain in front of the enemy 
while he continues in force between Winchester and the Potomac. 
If you are in equal or superior force you may cross and offer him 
battle." And two days later, the message, " I had expected your cross- 
ing the river to-day in pursuit of the enemy." But through it all 
Patterson was cautious to the point of timidity, pleading the insuffi- 
ciency of the force under his command, and magnifying twofold the 
strength of the enemy. 

July came. McDowell's army was almost ready to move upon 
Manassas. The keen eye of the veteran in command at Washington 
discerned the danger threatened by Johnston's force in the Shenandoah 
valley. He had promised McDowell that Johnston should not leave 
the valley to go to Beauregard's aid. To Patterson he looked for 
the fulfilment of this pledge. With suggestion, entreaty, and order he 
spurred him on, but to little avail. Patterson still declared the enemy's 
force twice as strong as his own, when exactly the opposite was the 
case. Johnston, by skilful handling of his troops, and spreading false 
reports, had completely hoodwinked the Union commander. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. ^QT 



At last came the day upon which the Union army marched out 
of Washington, on the road to Manassas. While the march of the 
columns was still to be traced from Washington, by the clouds of dust 
rising above the tree-tops on the other side of the Potomac, General 
Scott sent two last prompting telegrams to Patterson, who was nine 
miles from Winchester, confronting the enemy, but at a distance too 
great to make his presence a check upon Johnston's movements. 

" Do not let the enemy amuse and delay you with a small force 
in front," read the first despatch, " whilst he reenforces the Junction 
with his main body." On the next day the wires carried a yet more 
significant message : " I have certainly been expecting you to beat 
the enemy. If not, to hear that you had felt him strongly, or, at 
least, had occupied him by threats and demonstrations. You have 
been at least his equal, and I suppose superior in numbers. Has he 
not stolen a march and sent reenforcements toward Manassas Junction? 
A week is enough to win victories." 

Patterson was on the retreat when these telegrams were handed 
him. The enemy had made no attack, but the Union commander had 
determined to withdraw and attack along another line. That withdrawal 
was fatal to him, and to other and greater ambitions and interests 
than his ; but of this he was ignorant, and answered General Scott's 
questions indignantly, saying, " The enemy has stolen no march on me. 
I have kept him actively employed, and, by threats and reconnoissances 
in force, caused him to be reenforced. I have accomplished in this 
respect more than the general-in-chief asked, or could well have been 
expected in the face of an enemy far superior in numbers, with no 
line of communication to protect." 

Alas, for the blindness of Patterson ! He had eighteen thousand 
men, or more; the enemy "far superior in numbers" had but twelve 
thousand. No reenforcements had been sent to Johnston. And not 
only had the wily Confederate stolen a march, but at the very moment 
Patterson wrote his confident despatch the van of Johnston's army was 
marching through Ashby's gap on the way to join Beauregard. And 



108 



HAITLK FIELDS OF '6i. 



how the opportune arrival of that force on the field of Bull Run turned 
the tide of battle, and sent the Federal army a shattered, routed mob, 
wildly fleeing- to Washington for shelter, we shall soon see. 

McDowell had no sooner returned to his quarters, after the con- 
ference at the White House, which we have described, than he began 
his preparations for moving his army. It was a task of herculean 
proportions. To carry the provisions and ammunition for the troops 
required a train of seven hundred and fifty wagons. These had to be 
made. To draw the wagons no less than three thousand horses were 
required, and all the horse markets of the North were ransacked to 
procure them ; nearly a thousand teamsters were required, and recruit- 
ing for this branch of the service was slow. With all his energy and 
determination General McDowell was unable to complete his arrange- 
ments for marching until a week later than the day originally set. 

In the mean time the Confederates kept themselves well informed 
of McDowell's progress. First, Beauregard's scouts captured a clerk 
who had been employed in the office of the Federal adjutant-general, 
and from him learned the exact force which was to be led against 
them. The Northern newspapers, too, which the Confederates con- 
tinually smuggled across the Potomac, were full of valuable news. 
Finally, Beauregard sent to Washington a spy who had been employed 
in one of the government departments, to get the latest information. 
The spy was given a small bit of paper, on which was written, in a 
secret cipher known only to those high in the service of the Confeder- 
acy, the words, " Trust bearer." This paper he was directed to carry to 
a certain house in Washington, and to deliver it only to the lady of 
the house, for women were among the warmest friends and the most 
trusted agents of the Confederacy. 

The spy performed his mission well. Once out of the Confederate 
lines he made straight for Washington. Reaching the Potomac at a 
secluded spot, secure from all visits from the Union pickets, he found 
a trusty boatman, with a light skiff, ready to ferrj- him across. By 
daybreak he was on the other side. Walking boldh- into the city, he 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



109 



heard the newsboys crying papers on the street, in which appeared 
the news that McDowell's army would march that night. After eagerly 
scanning the papers, and possessing himself of all that was of value in 
them, the spy sought out the 
friend to whom he had been 
recommended. No word of 
explanation was needed. The 
cipher message was presented 
and read. Another message 
in the same cipher was hastily 
written. Then a spirited span 
of horses carried the messen- 
ger down the bank of the Po- 
tomac to a safe crossing-place, 
and by nightfall the comman- 
der of the Confederate forces, 
in his tent at Manassas, was 
reading the message : — 




" Order issued for McDowell to 
march upon Manassas to-night." 



The news was true. July 
1 6 had come, — the day on 
which the great Northern army 
was to begin its advance. 
McDowell's orders had been 
issued in the morning for the 

troops to march in the afternoon. Nearly twenty-nine thousand men 
were to move, leaving some twenty thousand to guard Washington. 
The advance was to be in three columns, by three nearly parallel 
roads. Rations for three days were in each man's knapsack, and the 
provision trains were to follow the next day. 



The Suit ^un Campaign. 



no RAITLK FIELDS OF '6i. 



"The three following things," said the marching order, "will not 
be pardonable in any commander: ist, to come upon a battery or 
breastwork without a knowledge of its position ; 2d, to be surprised ; 
3d, to fall back." 

Put on their guard by this order the troops moved forward with 
painful caution. The scouts and skirmishers, still strange to their 
duties, continually gave false alarms. The troops, newly recruited 
and half-disciplined, found the march at first a pleasurable holiday, 
" They stopped every moment to pick blackberries or get water," says 
McDowell ; " they would not keep in the ranks, order as much as 
you please ; when they came where the water was fresh they would 
pour the old water out of their canteens, and fill them with fresh 
water ; the\' were not used to denying themselves much ; they were 
not used to journeys on foot." 

By noon on the 17th the advancing columns reached the little 
village of Fairfax Court-house. Beauregard had ordered his outposts 
to fall back as the Federals advanced, and, accordingly, the blue-coats 
had encountered no resistance. Though jaded with the march, the men 
were elated at having met no opposition. Many of the people of 
Fairfax Court-house had abandoned their houses, and fled as the troops 
approached. The more lawless members of the Union army saw in 
this an opportunity for plunder, and some of the unthinking ones 
joined them out of mere sportiveness. Houses were plundered, and 
a few barns and stables burned. At nightfall several soldiers 
paraded the streets clad in women's clothes, which they had taken 
from some of the deserted houses. One man was discovered, by a 
regimental officer, attired in the surplice and bands of an Episcopal 
clergyman. In his hand he held a prayer-book, from which, with 
great solemnit\-, he was reading a funeral service for the " President 
of the Southern Confederacy." 

After a turbulent night, during which the soldiers surrendered the 
rest they needed to their desire for a frolic, the reveille sounded, and 
the troops were soon again on the march. By nine o'clock they had 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. m 



reached Centreville, where they were halted, and the commanders began 
their plans for the battle which they knew was impending. 

Before following further the fortunes of the Federals, let us glance 
at the position held by the Confederates. With their base at Manassas 
Junction, they had chosen as their line of defence the small stream 
known as Bull Run, which flows between steep banks through a gently 
rolling and somewhat woody country. The stream is sluggish and 
winding in its course, and crossed by numerous fords. Along the 
southern bank of this stream Beauregard's army, now numbering some 
twenty thousand men, was posted. At every ford was a strong detach- 
ment behind hastily built earthworks. The whole line of defence 
covered a territory more than eight miles long. Within this line were 
seven fords and one bridge to be defended. 

In attacking an enemy thus entrenched, the first object of the 
attacking commander is to outflank his antagonist. That is, he tries to 
so dispose his troops as to create the impression that he is attacking all 
along the line, while his real purpose is to hurry his main body of 
troops to some single weak point on one of the flanks of the enemy and 
thus turn his position. 

This was the course McDowell determined to adopt. From his 
scouts he learned the strength of Beauregard's position, and that the 
nature of the ground along Bull Run made an extended attack all alon<T 
the line unpromising. He therefore determined to turn the enemy's 
position on the south, and his concentration at Centreville was intended 
to mask this design, since that village was in the immediate vicinity of 
the northern end of Beauregard's line. But before undertaking the final 
movement against the enemy he sent forward one of his division com- 
manders. General Tyler, to reconnoitre the position about Blackburn's 
ford. 

With a squadron of cavalry Tyler galloped down toward the ford, a 
column of two regiments of infantry following fast in the rear. The 
road passes over the brow of a hill, whence the Union troops could sec. 
over beyond the line of trees and shrubbery that marked the course of 



112 



r.A'rrLi-: fields of '6i. 



Bull Run, the Confederate soldiers marching to and fro. the rows 
of tents, the parks of artillery, and all the signs of life and energy that 
betokened the presence of an arni\' in the field. The sight was beautiful 
and imposing, but the opportunity for artillery practice was too tempting 
for Tyler to resist. A couple of field cannon were hastily brought up, 
and opened fire. The first shell went shrieking over the heads of the 
enemy and crashed through the side of a house nearly two miles away. 
The Yankees, watching its course with their field-glasses, cheered when 
they saw men in Confederate uniform come swarming out of the wrecked 
house. Perhaps their joy would have been no less had they known that 
the house was General Beauregard's headquarters, and that the shell had 
lodged in the fireplace with the effect of blowing to pieces the dinner 
which was in course of preparation for the general and his staff. 

Now, General Tyler had been ordered not to bring on a battle ; but 
after a few shots from his field-pieces had drawn an answering shell 
from the Confederate batteries he began to be carried away by the 
excitement of the moment. First, a line of skirmishers was sent forward. 
Before them the Confederate pickets retired, so the Federals thought they 
might safeh' carr}' their battery a few hundred }'ards farther to the 
front. Then a regiment must be sent to support the guns. Next, a 
whole brigade goes in to the aid of the regiment, for by this time the 
firing was quick and deadly. From the woods, that half conceal the 
Confederate lines, the rattle of musketry and the roar of cannon comes 
to tell that no weak force is posted there. The Federals charge 
gallantly for\vard and are braveh- met. Both sides send for reenforce- 
ments ; but Tyler, tardily recollecting that he had been ordered not to 
bring on a battle, recalls his troops, and they leave the field in 
confusion. Sixty men, or more, had been killed or wounded on either 
side. But it was all for nothing. The Federals had no plan to carry 
out. They could have done nothing had they driven the enemy from 
his position. As it was, they felt themselves defeated and were depressed, 
while the Confederates were correspondingly elated over their victory. 

Night fell, and for a time the two armies rested upon their arms. 




Page 113. —Battle fields of '61. 



A BATTERY IN ACTION. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. n^ 

The Confederates remained watchful in their works along the banks 
of Bull Run. The Federals bivouacked about Centreville, and the 
red light of their hundreds of camp-fires could be seen from the 
headquarters of the enemy. There was anxiety in both camps. Each 
commander knew that a great battle was imminent, and each strained 
every nerve in preparation for the contest. Beauregard had telegraphed 
to Richmond, and thence the order had been flashed along the wires 
to Johnston, in the Shenandoah valley, to make all haste to join the 
Confederate host at Manassas. McDowell, not a whit behind in fore- 
thought, had telegraphed to Washington, and the order had been sent 
to Patterson : " Hold Johnston in the valley. Do not let him steal a 
march on you." But Patterson had proved wanting in diligence, and 
that very night a silent column of nine thousand Confederate soldiers 
stole away from the camp in the Shenandoah valley, and began a forced 
march for the nearest railway station. On the way they met an officer 
galloping madly down the road. Reining in his smoking steed, he 
asked anxiously for Johnston, and handed him a brief note. " If you 
wish to help me, now is the time. Beauregard," was all it said, 
but it spurred the weary soldiers to a quicker pace. The officer who 
had brought the note killed his horse in his fierce ride from Ashby's 
Gap. There was no halting by the way-side, no picking of blackberries 
for these men. The fate of a battle depended on their promptitude. 
Urged on by their leaders, they trudged over eighteen miles of rough 
mountain road, boarded the cars, and were whirled away to Manassas. 

McDowell knew nothing of the advance of Johnston's troops. He 
relied upon Scott's assurance that if Johnston moved at all he should 
have Patterson at his heels. But, indeed, there was enough to discom- 
pose the mind of the Union commander in the two days that the 
Union army rested at Centreville. He saw his men depressed by their 
failure at Blackburn's ford, and he knew that the Confederates were 
elated over their success. His army, a mere mob of civilians in uniform, 
was wearied by a long march, while the enemy rested securely in his 
trenches. Worst of all, the time of service of many of his soldiers 



116 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

was nearly up, and protests began to be heard on all sides. He could 
not order an immediate attack, for his ammunition and provision wagons 
had not come up. Moreover, the engineers had reported that the 
right flank of the Confederate line could not be turned, and until they 
found an unfortified ford on the left flank, the attack could not be 
ordered. Friday, the 19th of July, passed in anxiety and suspense. 
On Saturday the engineers made their report, and the advance was 
ordered for the next day ; but the delay cost McDowell one regiment 
and one battery, whose term of service expired on that day, and who, 
with base poltroonery, turned their backs on the enemy after the order 
of battle had been issued. The Secretary of War and General McDowell 
went in person to these troops, and begged them to remain ; but to 
no avail. With sullen faces and downcast eyes they marched away, 
leaving better and braver men to fight a losing battle next day. 

Late Saturday afternoon McDowell's scouts returned to camp, 
bringing word that a ford had been discovered far up the stream, 
beyond the left flank of the Confederate army. With this intelligence 
gained, the plan of battle was simple, and the necessary orders were 
soon given. Richardson, with his division, was ordered to make a 
demonstration against the Confederate right flank at Blackburn's ford. 
Tyler, who had directed the ill-fated advance of two days before, was 
to make a vigorous feint against the enemy's centre, at the stone 
bridge. McDowell himself, with the main body of. the army, consisting 
of Hunter's and Heintzelman's divisions, was to march by night across 
the fields and woods, by a path concealed from the enemy, cross Bull 
Run at Sudley's ford, and march southward, turning the enemy's flank 
and driving him from his position. It was a well-matured and soldierly 
plan, which even the succeeding disaster has not wholly deprived of 
its excellence in the estimation of strategists. 

In the mean time two men in a farm-house within the Confederate 
lines were deep in a discussion as to the proper manner for the Con- 
federate army to open the battle the next day. One of these men 
was General Beauregard, the other General Johnston, whom McDowell 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



117 



thought was far away in the Shenandoah valley, securely hemmed in 
by Patterson. With nearly nine thousand men he had come to the 
assistance of Beauregard, and had at once urged that the Confederates 
should take the offensive without waiting for an attack. Beauregard 





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concurred, and it was determined to attack the Federals at Centreville 
early Sunday morning. 

And so that Saturday night passed away, each army expecting to 
move forward in the morning, and neither expecting the other to make 
the attack. 

Sunday morning dawns. The Federals have been marching toward 
Sudley ford since two at night. The narrow road by which their route 
lay is choked with weary men, and straining horses dragging field- 



113 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

pieces. Delay follows delay. The ford should have been crossed 
by daybreak ; it is nine o'clock before the head of the column reaches 
it. Then all throw themselves upon the ground to rest, and eat a 
meagre breakfast. In the mean time a man living in a mill by the 
side of the road has galloped ahead to warn the Confederates that 
the Yankees are coming down upon them, by way of Sudley's ford. 

Let us look at the field on which the battle is to be fought, 
and the positions held b}- the troops of either side on that eventful 
Sunday morning. ^ull Run flows in a crooked channel, from the 
north-west to the south-east. The Confederate troops were on its 
westerly side, facing east. Evans's brigade held the extreme left flank 
at the stone bridge, some half a mile below Sudley's ford. Below 
Evans was Cocke, then Bonham, then Longstreet, then Jones, and 
finally, on the extreme right flank, eight miles from Evans, was Ewell. 
Each of these div^isions was stationed at such a point as to hold a 
ford. In the rear were the reser\-es. — Bee, Earl}% Holmes, and Jackson. 
The latter had just come from the Shenandoah valley, and we shall 
see what his presence on the Bull Run battle-field meant for the Con- 
federates. 

If we choose the hour of half-past six in the morning we find 
the Confederate troops posted as above, while the Federals are ad- 
vancing by three roads. Straight down the turnpike from Centreville 
come the troops of Tyler, with drums beating and colors flying. 
Richardson's division marches down to make a demonstration at Black- 
burn's ford, the scene of the skirmish of two days before. All kinds of 
uniforms are visible in the ranks. The dark blue of the small body 
of regulars, the brilliant scarlet trousers and fezzes of the Zouaves, the 
light gray of some of the city militia companies, combine to make 
up a brilliant pageant on the loneh- country roads on the quiet 
Sunday morning. 

Ayres's batter}' of rifled guns precedes Tyler's advance. Swinging 
into position at a favorable point on the turnpike, it opens fire on 
Evans's troops, who guard the stone bridge. It is the first gun of 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



119 



the great battle. The second shot cuts through the tent of Beaure- 
gard's chief signal officer. Soon the whole battery of rifled cannon is 
in full play. The Confederates remain dumb, having no artillery of 
sufficient range to reply. 

McDowell's whole plan of battle rested on the supposition that 
Tyler would show so much activity as to lead the enemy to believe 
that the main assault was to be made by the stone bridge. But in this 
Tyler signally failed. After maintaining an almost ineffective cannon- 
ade for some time, he sent forward a line of skirmishers, who 
engaged the Confederate shirmishers in the woods on the northern 
bank of Bull Run. More than this he did nothing. 

Evans, meanwhile, saw, rising high above the tree-tops beyond 
Bull Run, a dense cloud of dust, — that telltale signal which every 
army marching in the summer-time gives of its movements. This first 
led him to believe that the skirmish in his front was but a feint, 
intended to draw his attention away from some more serious assault 
upon him from some other quarter. While speculating upon this, he 
saw a horseman, hatless and coatless, coming galloping down upon 
him in wild excitement. 

"General, the Yankees are coming that way," shouted the 
messenger. " They are crossing Bull Run at Sudley's ford by 
thousands." 

Evans here shows his soldierly qualities. Though his orders had 
been only to hold the stone bridge against all comers, he quickly 
abandons his position there, leaving but four companies to keep up 
the petty skirmish with Tyler's troops. Marching down the turnpike 
on the double-quick, he chose a position on a slight ridge, just inside 
the bend of Young's branch, a little stream emptying into Bull Run. 
With eight hundred men he has to check the advance of an army; 
but he forms his line boldly, and sends a courier off to the rear for 
aid. Soon a line of skirmishers appears, emerging from the woods. 
A scattering fire of musketry begins, and here and there men begin 
to fall to the earth. Both sides arc still ignorant of war, and the 



120 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



Federals suffer seriously for their inexperience. With a rapid, steady 
advance they could sweep Evans's handful of men away, and carry 
confusion down the whole Confederate line. Instead of this their assault 
drags, and the brigades of Bee and Bartow come to the aid of Evans, 
before his position has been seriously shaken. 

But now the battle becomes general. The war of artillery and 
the ceaseless rattle of the musketry dismay the untried soldiery. The 
shrill notes of the bugle and the cheering of the Confederates tell 
that reenforcements are hastening to confront the Federals, whose 
advance now begins to gain in spirit. The famed Washington Artiller}% 
recruited among the gilded youth of Xew Orleans, comes to the field 
on the gallop, and opens fire. Almost the first shell thereon burst 
beside General Hunter, and that officer is carried, desperately wounded, 
from the field. The Louisiana Tigers, made up of the lawless char- 
acters of all nationalities that have their lurking-places in the slums of 
the Crescent city, come to the field on the run, but are soon scattered. 
Despite the reenforcements. the Federals are still in overpowering 
numbers, and force the Confederates back from point to point, until 
their rout seems inevitable. Fresh troops come to aid the blue-coats. 
Heintzelman's brigade comes up on the right, and Sherman, with a 
detachment of Tyler's troops, succeeds in finding a ford above the 
stone bridge, and comes to the aid of his comrades. Tyler's signal- 
officer, perched on the topmost branches of a lofty tree, has watched 
the course of the battle, and signalled Sherman to move at the 
moment when his aid seemed most essential. 

Now the Confederates begin to fall back ; in orderly retreat at 
first, then in seemingly hopeless confusion. Wheat has been wounded, 
and his " Tigers " are scattered. Shouts, conflicting commands, cries 
of pain, the shriek and crash of shells, made up so deafening a tumult 
that the men could not comprehend the frantic efforts of their officers 
to rally them. So. in a panic-stricken, surging mass, the troops of 
Bee and Evans fled across the turnpike and out of the valley of 
Youne's branch. On the crest of the hill back of the road was a 





Page uj, __ u ^ 



BRINGING UP THE GU 



NS, 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 123 

brigade of troops that had but a few hours before arrived from the 
Shenandoah valley. Five regiments and two batteries were there, 
unscarred by the conflict, and in command of a man then almost 
unknown, but destined to win, perhaps, the proudest laurels worn by 
any soldier of the Civil War. Jackson saw the rout before him, and 
straightway formed his line of battle on the hill, extending from the 
Robinson house to the Henry house. 

On came the broken ranks of Bee's brigade. By their side gallops 
their general. His hat has fallen off, his face is begrimed with sweat 
and smoke, his drawn sword waves in his hand as with commands, 
with curses, and with entreaties he tries to rally his men. But his com- 
mands and his appeals are alike unheeded. The men have fought 
well. No coward blood runs in their veins. So well had they fought, 
that of one regiment, the 8th Georgia, General Beauregard said after- 
wards: "I salute the 8th Georgia with my hat off! History shall never 
forget you." But the appearance of the fresh troops of Heintzelman 
and Sherman on the field had for the time broken the spirit of these 
brave fellows, and they fled before such hopeless odds. 

Seeing Jackson standing calm and stern before his troops, Bee 
galloped up to him, and in a tone of agony cried : — 

" General, see ! They are beating us back." 

" Very well, sir. We will give them the bayonet," wa^ the cool 
response of the other. 

His words and manner infused new life and hope into Bee's mind. 
Dashing back to his troops, he shouted, with fierce gestures : — 

" See ! see ! There stands Jackson, like a stone wall." 

The men look where he points. The sight, of that immovable 
line of disciplined soldiers and the calmly self-reliant manner of the 
great leader calms them a little. Just at this juncture, with a clatter 
of hoofs, Beauregard and Johnston come galloping to the scene of 
battle. They try to rally the troops. 

" Carry the standards forward forty yards," commands Beauregard. 

It is done. The color-sergeants and the color-guard of each regi- 



124 BATTLE FIELDS OF '61. 



ment stand boldly out on the field of battle amid the storm of lead. 
" Rally upon the colors ! " is the cry then, all along the line, and soon 
the shattered ranks began to assume some semblance of order. In 
the mean time Jackson's line had advanced somewhat, and the troops 
of Wade Hampton coming to his aid. the advance of the Federal 
columns is checked. 

It is now noon. The fury of the conflict is for the moment lulled. 
The batteries continue their deadly work, but the combatants seem 
cautious. Neither attempts to advance, but both await the arrival of 
reenforcements. Thus far the success of the Federals has almost been 
uninterrupted. They have turned the enemy's flank, and driven him 
from every position he has sought to hold, until Jackson's arrival 
stayed their advance. But through all the morning's fight the Confed- 
erates have been acting without concert, without any guidance from 
their general, who had been at the other end of the line, several miles 
away. Not until noon had he decided that the firing heard on his 
left indicated that the main attack was to be made there. 

But Beauregard is now on the field. As he galloped up he had 
ordered all the troops posted along the bank of Bull Run to hasten 
towards the firing. Johnston has gone back to hasten them forward, 
and the reenforcements begin to pour in. They form, under cover of 
the woods, on the crest of the hill back of the Henry and Robinson 
houses. It is a position of great strength. Jackson's brigade lies flat 
on the ground, to avoid the fire of the enemy. Their general, disdaining 
concealment, rides slowly up and down the line. " Steady, boys ; steady ! 
All's well," he says. Out in front are the Confederate batteries 
making deadly play upon the Union lines, seen forming in the distances, 
and suffering terribh' from the rapid and well-directed fire of Griffin's 
and Ricketts's batteries. Beauregard rides down the line. " Colonel 
Walton, do you see the enemy?" says he to the commander of the 
Washington Artillery. 
" Yes, sir." 
" Then hold this position, and the day is ours." 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i 



125 



As he turns to ride away, a shell bursts beneath his horse, tearing 
the animal to pieces, and cutting off a piece of the general's boot-heel. 

But now McDowell has re-formed his regiments and is about to 
advance. All day long the advantage of numbers and position has 



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been his. Now the enemy is his equal in numbers, and is strongly 
posted at the top of a hill up which he will have to charge. Nothing 
daunted, he prepares for the assault. His first move brings disaster. 
Ricketts and Griffin's batteries, stationed near the Dogan house, are 
ordered to move across the valley to a point near the Henry house. 
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12^3 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



themselves to obey orders; but when they learn that they are to be 
supported only by two untrained regiments they feel that a mistake has 
been made. But. without protest. the\- move to the post assigned 
them, and open tire upon the enemy, who returns it with equal spirit. 
Eleven Union guns are now engaged with thirteen Confederate guns ; but 
the latter are under cover, and supported by thousands of infantr\-men. 
For a time the exchange of shots continues ; but soon the Contederates 
o-fow bolder, and sallv out from the woods m quick, but ineflectual. 
charges upon tlie Union guns. Ricketts's batter}- is nearest, and against 
him the assaults are directed : but with well-directed volleys of grape 
and canister he holds his foes at bay. 

Griffin is stationed on Ricketts's right, and is ably sustaining his 
share in the conflict. Suddenly he sees a regiment emerge from the 
woods on the Confederate's left and advance boldly toward him. Swing- 
ing his guns around, he trains them upon the new-comers. But they 
advance with such deliberation, with no cheering or tiring, that for a 
moment he fancies the\- may be Union reenforcements. At this moment 
Major Barry, chief of the Union Artillery, gallops up. 

" Captain." he shouts. " don't fire on those troops ; they are your 
supports." 

" They are Confederates." cries Griffin ; " I know they are ; they are 
part of the enemy's forces." 

" \o. no; they are your supports." 

Then Griffin wheels his guns around again, and the double charges 
of grape and canister that he had prepared for tlie unknown regiment 
are sent whistling into the woods in which the main body of the 
Confederate troops is hidden. Meanwhile the doubtful regiment has 
moved up nearer, swung into a long line facing Ricketts and Griffin, 
halts, and with all deliberation levels its muskets and fires a volley at 
point-blank range into the very faces of the Union cannoneers. It is a 
murderous fire. Men and horses fall to the ground before the storm of 
leaden hail. Horses are stung by the flying bullets and maddened by 
the crash of the musketn,-. and gallop away, dragging caissons and 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 127 

limbers after them. The Zouaves, stationed to support the batteries, are 
thrown into confusion. Their officers urge them forward, but they 
hesitate. While they waver, the Confederates advance boldly, pouring in 
volleys. A sudden panic seizes upon the Zouaves. They break, they 
fly in terror, crying that all is lost. Some of them pluck up their 
courage and join other commands ; but, as a body, the Zouaves are not 
seen on the field of Bull Run again. 

This disaster is directly traceable to Patterson, far off in the 
Shenandoah valley, for the Confederate troops that fired the fatal volley 
were the troops of Kirby Smith, and had just reached the field of battle. 
In the cars they heard the noise of battle, and, stopping the train, they 
had run down the turnpike and across the fields towards the sound of 
the cannonading. Without reporting to Beauregard, or asking for orders, 
they sought the field of battle, and arrived in time to deal the decisive 
blow. 

For the slaughter of the artillery-men is the decisive blow, though, 
for a time, neither army recognizes the fact. A Virginia regiment 
darts out from the woods and seizes the deserted guns. Before they 
can turn them upon the Federals a Michigan regiment dashes up the 
slope and drives the captors back to cover. Before the Michigan 
men can drag their prizes away the Confederates swoop down upon 
them and drive them off. Thus the tide of battle surges to and fro 
about the guns, while Ricketts, sorely wounded, lies on the field and 
watches the strife go on. 

But the Federals do not confine their efforts to the recapture of 
the guns. To drive the Confederates from their position on the brow 
of the hill has now become their chosen task. Their line is formed 
time and again, and struggles bravely up the slope in the face of a 
pitiless fire from the Confederate infantry and artillery at the crest. 
Often they almost achieve success. Once their advance is so superb 
in its daring, so seemingly irresistible in its onward rush, that a Con- 
federate officer, turning to Jackson, cries: — 

" General, see how they come on ! I fear the day is going against us." 



128 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

" Well, sir," was the curt response, " if you do think so you had 
better not sa}' anything about it." 

Then, seeing a momentary wavering in the Union line, Jackson 
orders a charge, and his troops pour down upon the Federals, and 
force them back down the slope they had so gallantly scaled. Often 
they return to the assault only to be driven back. Their daring is 
superb ; but they are fighting a losing fight, for while they are grow- 
ing weaker from heavy losses the Confederates are constantly bringing 
forward reenforcements. 

One helpless human being falls a pitiful victim to the flying 
missiles. In the Henr\' house lies Mrs. Judith Henry, eighty years 
old. and bedridden by old age. At the opening of the conflict she 
had been carried on a litter to a hollow where she would be out of 
danger ; but as the day wore on she was carried back to her house, 
in the belief that she would be safe there. When the struggle for the 
position at the crest of the hill began, the Henry house was in the 
direct line of artiller\- fire, and the helpless paralytic, deserted by her 
friends, lay in the midst of storm of missiles, receiving fatal wounds 
from shells that burst in her room. 

There is no incident in the battle of Bull Run that can be 
definitely termed the moment of defeat. No successful charge b\' the 
Confederates, nor great disaster to the Federals, was instantly followed 
by the rout of the latter. But toward four o'clock in the afternoon, an 
hour or more after the disaster to Ricketts and Grifiin, the Union 
army began to go to pieces. Men left the ranks and went coolly to 
the rear. Half-disciplined regiments charged magnificently up the hill, 
but when driven back thought their whole dut}' done and quietl)' 
withdrew. " At four o'clock," says a Union officer, " there were more 
than twelve thousand volunteers on the battle-field of Bull Run who 
had entirely lost their regimental organization. They could no longer 
be handled as troops, for the officers and men were not together. Men 
and officers mingled together promiscuously ; and it is worthy of 
remark that this disorganization did not result from defeat or fear." 




Page 129. — Battle fields of '61. 

FIGHTING FOR RICKETTS'S GUNS. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 131 

No effort on the part of McDowell or his subordinate officers 
could check the retreating troops. The idea that they were beaten 
having once become general, there followed a scramble for safety, in 
which every man looked out for himself. There was no pursuit. 
The Confederates were not aware of their victory soon enough to 
follow it up with vigor. But without cause the discouragement of the 
troops became fear, and fear became panic, and soon the roads 
leading from the battle-ground were choked with fugitives. 

Crowds of civilians, members of Congress, government officials, 
newspaper correspondents, and curiosity seekers had followed the 
army from Washington, eager to witness the battle. Few of these 
had ventured so far as the battle-field, but thousands of them were in 
the fields and along the road leading to the stone bridge. The road 
was choked up with pleasure-carriages and with army-wagons. As 
the stragglers began swarming across the fords of Bull Run, dirty, 
grimed with powder, their faces telling of disaster, a feeling of vague 
alarm spread amongst the crowd of sight-seers. The contagion spread. 
Congressmen in carriages called to their drivers to whip up their horses 
and hasten back to Washington. Teamsters cut loose their horses from 
the wagons and galloped away. Even ambulances, laden with Union 
wounded, were thus abandoned and left standing in the road. Soldiers 
cast away their muskets, photographers their cameras ; even the in- 
separable note-book of the journalist was thrown aside that his flight 
might be unimpeded. To add to the confusion a Union battery came 
dashing down the road seeking a position from which to oppose the 
Confederates, should they attempt a pursuit. The whole mass of 
plunging, kicking horses, and shouting, struggling men, went surging 
down the road toward Centreville. 

Two miles from Bull Run the road crosses the little stream of 
Cub Run. Here was a narrow suspension bridge, all inadequate to give 
crossing to the retreating column. To add to the dangers of the 
retreat, a Confederate battery had been so posted as to command this 
bridge, and was dropping shells right into the midst of the flying 



132 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

mob. At last, as a Federal battery was making its way across the 
bridse, a horse was killed, a wheel knocked ofif, and then a shell 
exploded the caisson, dealing death on all sides. This blocked the 
way for vehicles across Cub Run. " Upon the bridge crossing Cub 
Run," says Burnside's report, " a shot took effect upon the horses of 
a team that was crossing ; the wagon was overturned directly in the 
centre of the bridge, and the passage was completely obstructed. The 
enemy continued to play his artillery upon the train, carriages, ambu- 
lances, and artillery wagons that filled up the road, and these were 
reduced to ruin. The artillery could not possibly pass, and five pieces 
of the Rhode Island battery, which had been safely brought off the field, 
were here lost." Eight guns in all were lost at this point, and when 
the Confederates came marching down the road, the next day, they 
found a vast amount of booty awaiting them. Cannon, muskets, 
artillery wagons full of ammunition, ambulances with less useful and 
more pitiful freight, carriages, provisions, baskets of champagne brought 
out by congressmen who expected to enjoy a battle and a picnic at 
once, musical instruments thrown away by frightened regimental bands, 
and even, it is said, though on doubtful authority, a wagon-load of 
handcuffs, intended for the Confederate prisoners, were among the 
trophies found at the Cub Run bridge. 

At Centreville, McDowell attempted to rally his troops, and suc- 
ceeded in bringing something like order out of the frightful chaos 
into which the Union army had been thrown. For a time he thought 
of making a stand, but wiser counsels prevailed. With his disorganized 
army he could hardly hope for success. Moreover the time of enlist- 
ment of many regiments had nearly expired. " In the next few days," 
says McDowell's report, " day by day I should have lost ten thousand 
of the best armed, drilled, officered, and disciplined troops in the army." 
And he continues : " The condition of our artillery and its ammunition, 
and the want of food for the men, who had generally abandoned or 
thrown away all that had been issued the day before, and the utter 
disorganization and consequent demoralization of the mass of the army, 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 133 

seemed to all who were near enough to be consulted — division and 
brigade commanders and staff — to admit of no alternative but to 
fall back." 

This accordingly was done. While the throng of civilians and 
demoralized soldiery went trooping along the roads to Washington, 
the brigades of Richardson and Blanker, in perfect order, brought up 
the rear, and warded off the occasional assaults of the enemy's cavalry. 
The Confederates made but . slight efforts toward a pursuit. Their 
victory had been snatched from the very jaws of defeat, and their 
most astute officers hardly comprehended the full extent of their suc- 
cess, so suddenly had it been won. " We have won a glorious but 
dear-bought victory," was the language in which Jefferson Davis, who 
had reached the field just as the battle ended, announced the result. 
There had been many a moment during the battle when the result 
seemed doubtful ; but when night fell the Confederates were in full 
possession of the field. They had captured 25 guns and had taken 
1,460 prisoners. Their loss was 387 killed and 1,582 wounded. The 
Union loss was 481 killed and 1,011 wounded. 

Great was the panic in Washington, that Sunday afternoon, when 
the telegram came over the wires : " General Pvl^cDowell's army in full 
retreat through Centreville. The day is lost. Save Washington and 
the remnants of this army." The citizens could hardly credit the 
news. All day long they had read bulletins detailing Union success, 
and this sudden tidings of defeat was received with incredulity. But 
by midnight the advance-guard of the retreating host began to reach 
the city, and there was little sleeping in the capital that night, as 
each weary horseman was importuned to. tell the story of the disaster. 

" The defeated troops commenced pouring into Washington, over the 
Long Bridge, at daylight on Monday, 22d, — day drizzling all through 
with rain," writes Walt Whitman, in his characteristically graphic style. 
" The Saturday and Sunday of the battle (20th, 21st) had been 
parched and hot to an extreme ; the dust, the grime and smoke, in 
layers, sweated in, followed by other layers again sweated in, absorbed 



134 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i 



by those excited souls ; their clothes all saturated with the clay-powder 
filling the air, stirred up everywhere on the dry roads and trodden 
fields by the regiments, swarming wagons, artillery, etc., — all the men 
with this coating of murk and sweat and rain, now recoiling back, 
pouring over the Long Bridge, — a horrible march of twenty miles, — 
returning to Washington baffled, humiliated, panic-struck. Where are the 
vaunts and the proud boasts with which you went forth? Where are 
your banners, and your bands of music, and your ropes to bring back 
your prisoners? Well, there isn't a band playing, and there isn't a flag 
but clings ashamed and lank to its staff. 

" The sun rises, but shines not. The men appear, at first sparsely 
and shame-faced enough, then thicker, in the streets of Washington, — 
appear in Pennsylvania avenue, and on the steps and basement entrances. 
They come along in disorderly mobs ; some in squads, stragglers, 
companies. Occasionally, a rare regiment, in perfect order, with its 
officers (some gaps — dead, the true braves) marching in silence, with 
lowering faces, stern, weary to sinking, all black and dirty, but every 
man with his musket, and stepping alive ; but these are the exceptions. 
Sidewalks of Pennsylvania avenue, P'ourtecnth street, etc., crowded, 
jammed with citizens, darkies, clerks, everybody, lookers-on ; women in 
the windows, curious expressions upon faces as those swarms of dirt- 
covered, returned soldiers there (Will they never end?) move by; but 
nothing said, no comments (half our lookers-on ' secesh ' of the most 
venemous kind, — they say nothing, but the devil snickers in their faces). 
During the forenoon Washington gets all over motley with these defeated 
soldiers, — queer-looking objects, strange eyes and faces, drenched (the 
steady rain drizzles on all day), and fearfully worn, hungry, haggard, 
blistered in the feet. Good people (but not over-many of them either) 
hurry up something for their grub. They put wash-kettles on the fire 
for soup, for coffee. They set tables on the sidewalks ; wagon-loads of 
bread are purchased, swiftly cut in stout chunks. Here are two ladies, 
beautiful, the first in the city for culture and charm, — they stand with 
store of eating and drink at an improvised table of rough plank, and 



BA^ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 135 

give food, and have the store replenished from their house every half- 
hour all that day; and there in the rain they stand, active, silent, white- 
haired, and give food, though the tears stream down their cheeks, 
almost without intermission, the whole time. Amid the deep excitement, 
crowds, and motion, and desperate eagerness, it seems strange to see 
many, very many, of the soldiers sleeping — in the midst of all, sleeping 
sound. They drop down anywhere, on the steps of houses, up close by 
the basements or fences, on the sidewalk, aside on some vacant lot, and 
deeply sleep. A poor seventeen or eighteen year old boy lies there, on 
the stoop of a grand house ; he sleeps so calmly, so profoundly. Some 
clutch their muskets firmly even in sleep. Some in squads ; comrades, 
brothers, close together — and on them, as they lay, sulkily drips the 
rain. . . . 

" But the hour, the day, the night passed, and, whatever returns, an 
hour, a day, a night like that can never again return. The President, 
recovering himself, begins that very night, — sternly, rapidly sets about 
the task of reorganizing his forces, and placing himself in position for 
future and surer work. If there were nothing else of Abraham Lincoln 
for history to stamp him with, it is enough to send him with his wreath 
to the memory of all future time, that he endured that hour, that day, 
bitterer than gall, — indeed a crucifixion day ; that it did not conquer 
him ; that he unflinchingly stemmed it, and resolved to lift himself and 
the Union out of it." 





CHAPTER VII. 

NOT DISCOURAGED. GENER-VL MCCLELLAN PUT IN COMMAND OF THE UNION ARMY. 

WARFARE IN MISSOURI. PRICE'S MOTLEY ARMY. BATTLE OF WILSON'S CREEK. 

THE DISASTER TO SIGEL. THE DEATH OF GENERAL LYON. RETREAT OF THE 

FEDERALS. MARTIAL LAW IN ST. LOUIS. BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. MULLIGAN'S 

DESPERATE DEFENCE, LEXINGTON SURRENDERS. GENERAL GRANT AT BELMONT. 




iiS"]' are not discouraged," telegraphed General Scott to Mc- 
Dowell on the afternoon of that gloomy day, when the 
ij^l defeated commander sat amid the ruins of his army at 
^ Centrcville. The curt message expressed the sentiment of 
the whole North. Though startled and bitterly disappointed by the 
result of the march toward Manassas, the people were in nowise de- 
spairing. " Brethren," said a venerable clergyman at an Illinois camp- 
meeting, when the news of Bull Run first reached him, " it is time to 
adjourn this meeting, and go home and drill." So, from Maine to 
Illinois, the result of the first battle was accepted by the North 
simply as an incentive to increased energy. A new army was created. 
The time of the three months' troops expired within a few weeks after 
136 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 137 

the battle, and their place was filled by volunteers for three years. 
General McCleJlan, who had won some reputation by gaining two unim- 
portant victories in West Virginia, was summoned to Washington and 
put in command. His first task was to so drill, discipline, and equip 
the widely differing regiments of which the army was made up, that the 
whole might be a perfect machine ; just as the blacksmith, by patient 
beating and working scraps of iron, can weld them into a massive bar 
of metal able to withstand or to give heavy blows. But the process was 
a slow one, and it led to the complete cessation of hostilities in Virginia 
for nearly eight months. 

There was fighting in the West, though, and the fertile land of 
Missouri first bore the brunt of battle. It was warfare, too, in which 
the skill of the tactician had little part. On neither side were the troops 
disciplined, or clothed and armed in uniformity. Missouri was a border 
State. Her people were bound by many ties both to the Union and to 
the new-born Confederacy. There were slaveholders there by thousands, 
and enemies of slavery in almost equal numbers. The one drifted natu- 
rally into the ranks of the friends of the Confederacy, the others as 
naturally joined the Union forces. Brother was separated from brother. 
Neighbors who had passed their lives in friendly intercourse found 
themselves driven by political differences into hostile camps. It was 
civil war, indeed, in Missouri. 

Lyon, with swift determination, had won a bloodless victory at Camp 
Jackson, and thus virtually disarmed the insurgents. This blow he had 
followed with a second swift stroke, by moving straightway into the in- 
terior, routing the enemy at Booneville in a petty skirmish, in which but 
four were killed on both sides. The flight of the insurgents then gave 
Lyon and the Union forces the possession of the State capital at Jefferson 
City, and the undisputed control of all that part of the State north of 
the Missouri river. 

The Confederates fled to the south-westerly part of the State. To 
their banners flocked hordes of men, sympathizing with their cause, ready 
to fight for it, but wholly without arms of any kind. As the column 



138 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

plodded along across the State it was intercepted by a body of Union 
troops, under General Sigel, at Carthage ; but the blue-coats were out- 
numbered, and fled after a sharp skirmish. No other obstacle checked 
the march of the Missourians until they reached the rendezvous at 
Cowskin Prairie, in the extreme south-western corner of the State. Here 
they went into camp, and General Price set about the task of shaping 
the rough material he had at hand into an army. 

This was no light undertaking. Between seven thousand and eight 
thousand men had volunteered to follow him in the fight for Missouri, 
Some had hunting-rifles, others had shot-guns ; several thousand had 
no weapons of any kind. Seven small cannon constituted the artillery 
force of the army, but not one cartridge was to be found. There was no 
food in the quartermaster's department, nor was there a dollar in the 
hands of the quartermaster with which to buy any. There were no tents, 
no wagons, no camp equipage of any kind. Like most of the Southern 
people the Missourians were practised horsemen, and almost every vol- 
unteer had brought a horse or mule to camp with him. For this huge 
herd of animals there was no forage. Uniforms were not to be thought 
of A bit of bright flannel or calico knotted about the arm of an officer 
was his only sign of rank. Among the organizations which helped to 
swell this motley array of soldiery was the command of General McBride, 
recruited in the Ozark mountains. This unique body of soldiers is thus 
described by Price's adjutant-general : — 

"The staff was composed chiefly of country lawyers, who took the 
ways of the court-room with them into the field. Colonels could not 
drill their regiments, nor captains their companies; a drum and a fife — 
the only ones in the entire command — sounded all the calls, and 
companies were paraded by the sergeants calling out, ' Oh yes ! Oh yes ! 
all you who belong to Captain Brown's company fall in here.' Officers 
and men messed together, and all approached McBride without a salute, 
lounged around his quarters, listened to all that was said, and when they 
spoke to him called him 'Jedge.' Their only arms were the rifles with 
which they hunted the squirrels and other small game that abounded in 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 139 

their woods ; but these they knew how to use. A powder-horn, a cap- 
pouch, ' a string of patchin',' and a hunter's knife completed their equipment. 
I doubt whether among them all was a man who had seen a piece of 
artillery." 

We have said that there were no cartridges for the artillery of this 
unique command. But there was some inventive skill among the officers, 
and this, with industry, enabled them to meet this need. " One of Sigcl's 
captured ammunition wagons furnished a few loose round shot ; a 
turning-lathe in Carthage supplied sabots ; the owner of a tin-shop con- 
tributed straps and canisters ; iron rods, which a blacksmith gave and 
cut into small pieces, made good slugs for the canisters ; and a bolt of 
flannel, freely donated by a dry-goods man, provided us with material 
for our cartridge bags. The men went to work making cartridges. . . . 
My first cartridge resembled a turnip rather than the trim cylinders from 
the Federal arsenals, and would not take a gun on any terms." 

Such was the force under Price's command. A little to the south 
of him, at Maysville, in Arkansas, were the troops of the Confederate 
general, Ben McCulloch, a little better drilled and equipped, but still a 
raw, untrained body of soldiery at the best. 

Confronting the Confederates was Lyon, with his army of loyal 
Missourians, in camp at Springfield. He had been joined by Sigel, and 
the two trained soldiers were straining every nerve to get their men 
equipped, disciplined, and ready to meet the Missourians, who were 
before them in overwhelming numbers. 

There was little delay in preparing for battle. The Western troops 
were satisfied with a degree of discipline and a meagreness of equipment 
that would have disgusted one of the martinets in command at Wash- 
ington. A fortnight sufficed for the work. On the 31st of July the 
combined forces of Price and McCulloch broke camp and moved upon 
Lyon, with the intention of driving him back to the Missouri river, 
and retaking the territory from which they had been expelled. At the 
same time the Confederate General Pillow, with twelve thousand men, 
crossed the Mississippi river from Tennessee and occupied New Madrid. 



140 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



The Confederates thus had formidable armies in the south-west and 
south-east corners of the State. Their plan of campaign was to effect a 
juncture, sweep the State clear of all Union forces, move into Illinois 
and capture Cairo, then in possession of the Federals under General Fre- 




J^ j T'rrdrif 



SceTze oP Op erections in. 2^tsseruTi , 



mont. The arm\' which was to accomplish all this the Confederates 
called the " Army of Liberation." 

Lyon's troops at Springfield stood in the way of the junction be- 
tween the two arms of the " Arm}' of Liberation." The forces of Price 
and McCulloch advanced by easy stages to meet them. Lyon's scouts 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 141 

brought him word of the enemy's advance. He knew himself to be out- 
numbered, but, too plucky to retreat, determined to attempt a surprise. 

The Confederates are encamped on the banks of Wilson's creek, 
ten miles from Springfield. They have had a wearying march. Their 
half-organized commissary department has failed them, and for two 
days they have fed on green corn taken from the fields along the road. 
Though they number more than ten thousand, while Lyon has but little 
more than half that number, the Confederates are so disorganized that a 
better time for an attack could hardly be chosen. 

Lyon divides his little army into two parts. The main division, 
some thirty-eight hundred strong, he retains under his own command. 
Colonel Sigel is directed to take the second division of twelve hundred 
men, make his way by a circuitous route to the enemy's rear, and attack 
him there, while Lyon falls upon him in front. At nine o'clock at night 
the two columns set out on the march. Lyon has ten miles to travel ; 
Sigel somewhat more. By daybreak the distance is covered, and the 
Union forces have secured the positions they desired. 

By a strange coincidence the Confederates had determined to attack 
Lyon upon the same day that he had chosen for his attack upon them. 
Therefore, on the night of August 9, just as the Union troops were 
moving from their position at Springfield, the Confederates were making 
preparations to abandon their position at Wilson's Creek. Indeed, their 
advanced pickets had been called in, and the columns were forming for 
the march, when a rain-storm came up, and forced them to abandon the 
enterprise. Having no cartridge-boxes, the Confederates were obliged to 
carry cartridges in the pockets of their clothing, and a march through a 
driving rain-storm would infallibly ruin all their ammunition. 

By some oversight the Confederate officers failed to order forward 
again the pickets that had been called in to prepare for the march. So 
when morning came, Lyon on the one side, and Sigel on the other, 
approached almost within musket-shot of the enemy's camp before the 
Confederates discovered that they were caught between two fires. 

It is early dawn when Lyon opens the conflict. His advance 



142 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

drives in the enemy's pickets, and the rattle of his musketry reaches the 
ears of Price as he sits at breakfast. The surprise is complete. Many 
of the Confederates are asleep, others are building fires, getting breakfast 
ready, carrying water, and attending to the routine duties of the camp. 
As they rush for their arms they see the Union skirmishers advancing 
through the woods. As the drummers begin the long roll, Totten's guns 
swing into battery on a neighboring hill, and shells bursting in the Con- 
federate camp complete the confusion. Against Lyon's dogged advance 
the enemy can do nothing. Firing wildly, they fall back up the slope of 
" Bloody Hill." Couriers are sent to Price for aid. He thinks it a false 
alarm ; but when he sees a mass of soldiers, camp followers, wagons, 
frightened horses, and panic-stricken men come tumbling over the crest 
of " Bloody Hill " in full retreat, with the shells from Totten's six-gun 
battery bursting in the thick of the crowd, he concludes that it is a bat- 
tle, and gallops forward to rally the troops. 

But what, meanwhile, of Sigel? 

His march around the enemy's lines has been wholly successful. 

His pickets, advancing in the gray dawn, have captured the stragglers 

and camp servants who might have given the alarm, and, when Lyon's 

musketry opens, Sigel has his four cannon in position on a commanding 

hill. At the first sound of battle these pieces opened fire, making 

deadly play upon the astounded enemy, who, seated at breakfast about 

the camp kettles, had no suspicion that the muzzles of hostile cannon 

were peering down upon them. The Confederates fly in confusion. Sigel 

advances through the deserted camp, pushing his artillery ahead. On 

the hill-top, under cover of the dense woods, the enemy rallies. A few 

minutes' pause in the conflict follows. Sigel thinks that perhaps Lyon 

has been successful, and is coming to join him. A moment later a 

brigade issues from the woods, with the Stars and Stripes floating at its 

head. 

" General Lyon's troops are coming down the road," said an officer 

to Sigel. 

" Don't fire, men ! They are friends," was the word passed along 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 143 

the lines, and the colors were dipped in friendly salutation, which the 
advancing troops answered in kind. 

Still Sigel was in doubt. " Ride forward and find out who they 
are," he said to a corporal, standing near him. The man did so, and 
was instantly shot down. Then came a volley from the advancing line, 
which charged forward at a run. The startled Federals fired a few 
shots and fled. The artillery-men leaped on the backs of their horses 
and galloped away, leaving the cannon on the field and throwing the 
ranks of the infantry into the direst confusion. Masked Confederate bat- 
teries hurled shot and shell upon the disordered ranks. Troops of 
cavalry charged, sabring right and left. In a few minutes it was all 
over. Sigel, with three hundred of his men, fled, leaving five cannon and 
nine hundred of his men behind. One gun was saved by the coolness 
of an ofiicer who forced a gang of Confederate prisoners to tie ropes to 
it and drag it from the field. By ten o'clock in the morning Sigel's 
command was literally cut to pieces, and its leader, with the shattered 
remnant of his troops, was flying back by country roads, hotly pursued 
by the enemy's cavalry. 

Thus General Lyon is left to continue the fight alone. He has 
no means of communication with Sigel ; no way of guessing the disaster 
that has overtaken him. He has less than four thousand men, while 
nearly ten thousand confront him. But he maintains the fight right 
gallantly. 

The field of battle is covered with scrub oaks and underbrush. 
Cavalry is useless. Charges are difficult. The hostile armies confront 
each other, separated by hardly more than thirty yards. The roar of 
the musketry is incessant, and above it rises the thunder of the artillery 
as Tottens .Union battery and Guibor's Confederate guns hurled iron 
messengers into the hostile ranks. 

Up and down the lines ride the officers, urging an advance here, 
strengthening a weak place there. Price found his men wavering on the 
right. Galloping to the rear he brought up a fresh regiment, which he 
ordered to occupy the crest of " Bloody Hill." 



144 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

"You will soon be in a pretty hot place, men." he said; "but I 
will be near you, and will take care of you. Keep as cool as the inside 
of a cucumber, and give them thunder." 

The regiment swept bravely into position, past Totten's battery, 
which mowed down half of its staff officers, and held its station, though 
in half an hour one-fifth of its men lay dead or wounded on the ground. 
General Price himself does not escape unharmed. Several times 
bullets pierce his clothing. One of these cuts an ugly gash in his side. 
Turning to the officer who rides by him he says cheerily, " Now, that's 
not fair. If I were as thin as Lyon, that fellow would not have hit 
me." 

Lyon, on his side, incites his troops to prodigies of valor. Their 
forward surge is almost irresistible. Before the assaults of their ad- 
versaries they stand immovable as the forests. Totten's artillerists work 
at their guns with superhuman fierceness. They beat back the Con- 
federate advances time after time. They bear without flinching the fire 
which Guibor's and Woodruff's batteries pour upon them. Woodruff 
was a former United States officer, and his artillery training had been 
given by Totten. against whom he was now exerting all his talents. 

But the logic of war is irresistible. With all his personal gallantry, 
and with all the devotion and the courage of his soldiers, Lyon's cause 
is hopeless. Every man he could muster is fighting in the lines. He 
has no reserves A soldier struck down cannot be replaced. The enemy, 
on the contrary, is constantly bringing fresh troops to the front. A gap 
is no sooner made in his lines than it is filled. Riding forward, ahead 
of his lines on " Bloody Hill," Lyon listens eagerly for some sound that 
may tell him of Sigel's progress. Early in the morning he had heard 
the sound of the guns with which Sigel had opened the battle. Now 
all is silent. Lyon does not know what the silence portends, but he 
fears the worst. As he turns to go back his horse is shot under him, 
and he receives a slight wound in the leg. A little later a half-spent 
bullet strikes him in the head. Half-dazed by the blow, sick at heart 
with anxiety, he says sadly to Major Schofield. " Alas. I fear the day 




Page 145, — Battle I'Ields of ui. 



DEATH OF LYON. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. I47 

is lost!" Schofield encourages him, and he soon takes heart, mounts 
another horse, and, waving his hat and cheering on his troops, he leads 
a column into the very teeth of the enemy's fire, but is struck full 
in the breast by a ball, and falls into his orderly's arms, crying, 
" Lehman, I am killed ! " In a few seconds his brave spirit is gone. 

There follows a lull in the combat. The Confederates, repulsed in 
their last charge, prepare for another. The Federals rest upon their 
arms. Their officers hold a hasty consultation. "Is retreat possible?" 
was the question. While they are debating it a cheer is heard from the 
front. A body of troops appears on the hill, where Sigel is expected. 
They carry the Union flag. Unsuspectingly the Federals allow them to 
approach, only to see them finally dash the Federal colors to the ground, 
display a Confederate flag, and come forward on the run, while a battery 
composed of Sigel's captured guns opens on the Union men from a 
neighboring hill-side. Though the stratagem was successful, the charge is 
successfully withstood. The assailants dash forward, so as to be almost 
within the flashes of the Union guns ; but still the blue line stands firm. 
At one point only it wavers ; but Captain Gordon Granger, who dis- 
tinguished himself throughout the engagement, hastens thither with re- 
enforcements. The Confederates are rolled back like waves from a rocky 
coast. In broken masses they fall back to the cover of the woods, and 
throw themselves upon the ground, wearied, and despairing of victory. 

This moment was seized by the Federals to begin their retreat. 
Slowly and in good order they withdrew. The enemy was too much 
broken to attempt to cut off" their retreat. " We were glad to see them 
go," says a Confederate officer who fought through that bloody day. 

Back to Springfield marched the shattered remnant of Lyon's army. 
On the way they fell in with some of the survivors of Sigel's disaster, 
and at Springfield they found Sigel himself, who had reached there, with 
but one follower. Thence the retreat was continued to Rolla, Mo., one 
hundred and twenty-five miles away. 

It had been a bloody battle. Great was the bravery on either side, 
and great had been the loss. The official reports showed that the Union 



148 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



forces lost 223 killed, 721 wounded, and 291 missing. The Confederates 
lost 265 killed. Soo wounded, and 30 missing. But bitterest of all was 
the loss of Lyon, who thus early in the war had shown qualities of zeal, 
determination, and courage that surely would have put him in the very 
van of American soldiers, had not his life been thus untimely cut off. 
In the confusion of the retreat the dead body of the gallant leader was 
left on the field of battle. Reaching Springfield, the Federals discovered 
their loss, and sent an officer back for Lyon's bod)'. But when the 
officer reached Springfield with his charge he found the army again in 
retreat. Accordingly the body of the dead hero was again abandoned, 
and was given its final interment by the Confederates after the}' entered 
Springfield. 

Then for a time both belligerents in Missouri rested upon their arms. 
Price and McCulloch issued proclamations announcing a " brilliant victory 
upon a hard-fought field." and inviting reenforcements for the purpose of 
moving upon St. Louis. The Federals, though bitterly disappointed by 
the result of the conflict, were in no\vise broken in spirit. General 
Fremont, in command of the Union forces in the West, was stationed at 
St. Louis. The secessionist sympathizers, of whom the town was full, 
were emboldened by the victory at Wilson's Creek, and were outspoken 
in their expressions of joy. 

"Put this city under martial law," said Fremont to his chief of 
staff. 

The order was published. 

"What is martial law, anyway?" asked a citizen who had been 
deputed to visit the provost-marshal and find out the character of this 
novel method of city government. "What does martial law do?" 

" That's easily answered," was the response. " Martial law does 
prett\- much as it pleases." 

In the course of a few days the citizens found out that the officer 
had ver\- fairly defined the powers of martial law. Among other things, 
it caused the peremptory suppression of every St. Louis newspaper that 
advocated secession ; but the severity of some of his measures so 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 149 

embroiled Fremont with the press and the government that he was 
reHeved from command shortly aftej. 

Meantime, outside the city of St. Louis, where the power of the 
Federal government was little feared, a sputtering warfare of individuals 
and armed bands was going on. But not until the middle of September 
did the regular forces of the warring peoples again come into collision. 

At the little town of Lexington, on the Missouri river, were stationed 
about three thousand Federal soldiers under the command of Colonel 
Mulligan. Toward this post General Price, with his army of Missourians', 
began to advance early in September. Near Lexington, in the town of 
Warrensburg, was a bank, in the vaults of which was stored silver to the 
amount of one hundred thousand dollars, and a large amount of paper 
money. Seeking to confiscate this. Price first directed his steps in that 
direction ; but was vastly disappointed to find the Federals had been 
before him, and had left nothing in the vaults of the bank save some 
lively caricatures depicting the disgust of the Confederates when they 
should find the money gone. Foiled in this project Price pushed on to 
Lexington. 

Mulligan was not aware of the overpowering strength of the army 
that was advancing against him. His scouts brought him tidings of 
Price's strength and of his intentions. But, though in command of less 
than three thousand men. Mulligan determined to try to hold his posi- 
tion against Price's fourteen thousand. He believed that Fremont would 
surely send him reenforcements ; and, to make sure of this, he sent an 
officer down the river on a steamboat to bring up the Federal troops 
stationed at Jeff"erson City. But the steamer was captured, the messen- 
ger sent to a Southern prison, and the looked-for aid never came. 

Ignorant of the fate of his courier. Mulligan made preparations for 
defence. On a steep hill just outside the town stood a large brick 
building, the home of a Baptist college. Around this, Mulligan built 
breastworks, dug ditches, made pitfalls and hidden mines, and prepared 
for the struggle. He had brave hearts with him, and greater courage 
than his never animated any soldier. But his fight was a hopeless one 



lijO BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



from the first. For the six howitzers mounted upon his works he had 
no ammunition; for the muskets of his men but forty rounds. His 
stock of provisions, too, was lamentably short ; but this lack, according 
to his own words, was met by " stealing provisions from the inhabitants." 

On the morning of the i8th the main engagement began. For 
days before there had been skirmishing on the outskirts and in the 
streets of the town, but by the i8th of September Mulligan's men were 
snugly entrenched on the hill. At nine o'clock the enemy advanced to 
the assault. Not less than eighteen thousand men were in his columns. 
Sixteen cannon reflected the light of the bright sun as they were drawn 
to the positions assigned them. When troops and batteries had swung 
into line, the Union men found themselves completely surrounded by an 
over\vhelming force. But, despite the superior numbers of the Confeder- 
ates, they were somewhat shy of charging that line of earthworks. 
Taking up a position at long range, they began a siege. The Federals 
expected a charge. " Our spies had brought intelligence that it was the 
intention of the enemy to make a grand rush, overwhelm us, and bur)' 
us in the trenches of Lexington," said Mulligan afterwards ; and there is 
little doubt that the enemy's strength would have made the success of 
such a movement perfectly certain. But caution was the order of the 
day. For three hours the battle was maintained b)' the artillery of both 
sides, and with little effect. U 

Outside the Federal lines stood a three-story brick building. This 
MuUio-an had devoted to hospital purposes, and over it had raised the 
yellow flag, that usually protects hospitals from hostile attack. But at 
noon the Confederates seized upon the building, and from its upper 
windows poured a destructive fire upon the men in the Union trenches. 
Mulligan ordered the position retaken. Two Missouri regiments refused 
to undertake the perilous task. But a company of the Irish Brigade 
charged on the double-quick across the eighty yards that intervened 
between the entrenchments and the building. At the door they 
wavered. "Come on, ni)' brave boys!" shouted Captain Gleason ; and 
they rushed. From floor to floor the)' drove the armed inmates. To 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 151 



none did they give quarter, for all felt that the use of a hospital as 
a point of attack was unwarranted by the rules of war. For two hours 
the Irish troops held the buildini^, then, forced out by the enemy's 
artillery fire, they returned to the trenches. Eighty had sallied out on 
the dashing charge. Fifty returned, and of these many were sorely 
wounded. 

Though many and bitter comments have been made concerning the 
action of the Southerners in taking possession of this hospital, it hardly 
seems fair to accuse them of any wrong-doing. The building was 
wholly outside of Mulligan's lines, and commanded his works. If he 
feared that it would be used as a point of attack, it was his part to 
demolish it, not to attempt to save it from the enemy by suddenly 
calling it a hospital, and claiming extraordinary immunities for it. 

Afternoon and evening the battle raged. A constant fire was main- 
tained, but neither side made any movement of attack. The next morn- 
ing the siege continued. The Home Guards, who were cooped up with 
Mulligan in the trenches, seeing their ammunition fast going, their 
forces reduced by the enemy's fire, and no hope of victory, became 
discouraged and murmured loudly. But the defence went on. Day- 
break of the 20th came. Still the investing force of Confederates 
poured a pitiless fire upon the beleaguered blue-coats. Within the Union 
works the distress was pitiable. No water was to be had. The wells 
were drained dry. A slight rain had fallen the day before, but the little 
store of water that the men could catch had been exhausted. The 
cartridges had to be torn with the teeth before being put into the 
guns, and the men presented a horrible appearance, with swollen and 
cracked lips, blistered tongues, the blood running down their chins, and 
their faces begrimed with powder. 

Toward noon of this day the enemy changed his tactics. The siege 
was turned into a deliberate assault. Great bales of hemp were rolled 
upon the battle-field, and sharp-shooters snugly hid behind them picked 
off the men on the Union lines. 

"Try hot shot on them," ordered Mulligan. 



152 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

It was done. The bales began to smoke, finally burst into flames, 
and the sharp-shooters fled from their hot quarters. Other bales were 
rolled forward. Buckets of water were dashed upon them. By a con- 
tinued advance they were soon brought close to the Union lines. 

Suddenly the firing on both sides slackened. Unknown to Mulligan 
the Home Guards had raised a white flag. From the enemy came a 
flag of truce, with a message from General Price, saying : — 

" Colonel, what has caused the cessation of the fight? " 

Mulligan's answer was equally terse : — 

" General. 1 hardly know, unless you have surrendered." 

Scanning his lines, Mulligan saw the unauthorized white flag flying. 
Galloping to the spot, he ordered the lieutenant who had raised it to 
pull it down. He demurred. " We have no cartridges," he said, " and 
a vast horde of the enemy is about us." His men muttered their 
approval; but Mulligan sternly commanded that the flag be taken down, 
and the troops man the breastworks. It was done, and the blue-coat^, 
determined and desperate, but hopeless of victory, prepared to meet the 
assault for which the enemy was seen to be preparing. 

" This is butcher}-." said an officer. Mulligan overheard the re- 
mark. A council of war was summoned, and, the voice of all the 
oflicers being for siu'rendcr, the signal of submission was again raised. 
" The place was given up," said Mulligan, years later, " upon what con- 
ditions, to this day I hardly know or care." 

Gallant, indeed, had been the defence. The force of the Federals 
was but puny in comparison to that o( their antagonists ; but for three 
days the}- had held Price's men at ba}'. The loss had been heavy, but 
the example of courage set to the Union armies all over the land was 
invaluable. Ever after that the " Irish Brigade " bore on its colors, in 
erolden letters, the significant word. — 

LEXINGTON. 

Once again before the end of the year did the hostile forces, in con- 
siderable numbers, cross swords in Missouri. It was in the latter part of 




Page 153. — riATTr.E fields of '61 



THE HEMP-BALE BARRIERS. 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 155 

November, when Fremont, spurred at last to activity, had taken the field 
with a considerable force, and had driven the enemy back into the 
south-west corner of the State. In the van of the Union army was a 
picked body of cavalry, known as Fremont's Body Guard, and com- 
manded by a young Polish officer named Zagonyi. These troopers, 
only one hundred and fifty in number, charged fiercely upon fifteen 
hundred Confederates stationed just outside of Springfield, routed them, 
rode into the town, cleared the streets of Confederates, raised the Union 
flag over the court-house and retreated, carrying with them a captured 
Confederate banner. 

"This was really a Balaklava charge," said Fremont in his official 
report. 

With this affray ended the active hostilities in south-west Missouri 
for the year i86i. But early in November the Union forces made a suc- 
cessful descent upon the Confederate camp at Belmont, a Missouri hamlet 
of three houses, squatted down upon the muddy banks of the Mississippi, 
directly opposite Columbus, Ky. Aside from the hotly contested nature 
of the battle, it is of special interest as having been the occasion of the 
first appearance upon a battle-field of the Civil War, of an officer des- 
tined in later years to lead the Union forces to victory. 

Brigadier-General Ulysses S. Grant, a West Pointer, who had served 
with honor in the Mexican War, and had afterwards resigned from the army 
only to promptly volunteer when the reverberations of the shot fired at 
Fort Sumter shook the whole nation, was at this time in command of the 
department of south-east Missouri. Fremont, his superior officer, fearing 
that the Confederates, who were in force at Columbus, Ky., would cross 
into Missouri and reenforce Price, whom he was trying to drive from the 
State, ordered General Grant to make a demonstration at some point on 
the Mississippi. 

Grant was prompt to obey. Placing five regiments of infantry, two 
companies of cavalry, and two gups on river steamboats, he left Cairo 
on the 6th of November, and started down stream. At the outset he 
had no idea of attacking the Confederates ; but the enthusiasm of his 



156 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

men at the prospect of action was such that he hardly dared to return 
tamely without striking a blow. At Columbus the Confederates had ten 
thousand men and a well-fortified position. To attack them would be 
madness. But at Belmont there was only a small detachment of the 
enemy, in an unfortified camp. This Grant determined to attack. 

Three miles above Belmont he landed his forces. While the troops 
advanced slowly over the marshy and densely wooded country, the 
gunboats "Lexington" and "Tyler" dropped down and opened fire on 
the enemy's works at Columbus. 

In command at Columbus was General Polk, the Episcopal bishop 
of Mississippi, who had thrown off his sacred robes to don the gray 
uniform of the Confederate soldier. Grant's manoeuvres puzzled him. 
From Paducah, on the Ohio river, back of Columbus, a Union force was 
moving toward the rear of the Confederate works. What, then, could be 
the meaning of this landing of Union forces on the other side of the 
Mississippi, where they could be of no possible use in an attack upon 
Columbus? After considering the problem, Polk concluded that Grant's 
movement was a ruse to draw him from his works, that the Union ad- 
vance in his rear might be unimpeded. Accordingly he remained quiet 
in his trenches, watching Grant's troops move down the western bank of 
the river. Not until Grant's skirmishers were fairly engaged did General 
Polk conclude that the fighting was to be at Belmont, and not at 
Columbus. Then he speedily sent three regiments across the river. 

Four hours of fighting followed the first collision of the hostile 
skirmishers. Through the woods the blue-coats advanced slowly, but 
without serious check. There was no open country, and there could be 
no charges ; but the fighting was cool and deadly. " I never saw a 
battle more hoth' contested, or where troops behnved with more gal- 
lantry," said Grant, in his report, next day. Many were struck down in 
the woods by the flying bullets. Grant's horse was shot under him. But 
the Union troops pressed on until at last the edge of the clearing 
about the camp was reached. Then the Confederates broke and fled, 
plunging over the steep bank of the river, huddling together on the 



BAT^rLE FIELDS OF '6i. 157 

sands underneath, panic-stricken, and ready to surrender at the first 
summons. 

But no demand for surrender was made. The Union soldiers, who 
had fought Hke veterans, showed that they were but raw recruits in 
the moment of victory. When they saw the Confederate camp de- 
serted they broke through the abatis by which it was surrounded, and 
at once gave themselves up to plunder and self-glorification The 
younger officers were as bad as the men. From the backs of their 
horses they made speeches boasting of victory, and glorifying the Union 
cause, whenever they could muster a corporal's guard to listen. 
Meantime the privates were ransacking the tents, breaking open trunks, 
and appropriating everything upon which they could lay their hands. 
One group of men had got hold of some captured cannon, and were 
furiously cannonading some steamers lying at a wharf down stream, 
far out of range. Up stream, within cannon-shot, were two steamers 
black with armed soldiery, coming over to cut off the Union retreat. 
Galloping up to the group. Grant directed them to turn their guns upon 
the loaded steamers ; but their excitement was so great that they paid 
not the slightest heed to him. Thereupon h^ ordered his staff officers 
to set fire to the camp, which was quickly done. The flames and the 
shells from the enemy's works across the river, which now began to drop 
rather thickly into the camp, brought the demoralized soldiers to their 
senses. As they looked about them they saw that the Confederates had 
re-formed their shattered ranks, and taken a position between the Union 
forces and the transports. 

" We are surrounded ! " was the cry. To the untrained soldiers the 
thought of being surrounded was equivalent to defeat. 

"We cut our way in here," said General Grant, "and can cut our 
way out again." 

Accordingly the lines were formed. The Confederates gave way, and 
before the reenforcements from Columbus had landed, the Ib'ederals had 
safely reached their boats. 

But they were not destined to get away without further loss. 



158 BATILK FIELDS OF '6i. 

After all the troops had i;one aboard the transports the work of brini^- 
ing in the wounded was begun. During the progress of the fight the 
wounded had been sent to some houses near the landing-place, and 
parties were now sent out to fetch them in. But by this time the 
enemy's reenforcements had arrived, and Polk himself had come to 
command them. They lost no time in hastening to the landing-place 
to cut oti" Grant's retreat, but succeeded only in capturing one or 
two of the landing-parties that were conve}'ing the wounded. 

At this juncture General Grant rode out to reconnoitre the enemy, 
and to discover what had become of five companies posted by him 
in a ravine to act as a rear-guard. To his astonishment, he discov- 
ered that the latter had quietly abandoned their post and gone aboard 
the steamer. The time had not yet come when soldiers understood 
that when assigned to a post it was their duty to stay there, through 
all perils, until relieved b\- further orders. While seeking for his van- 
ished rear-guard Grant rode about in a field of corn so high that 
even a man on horseback could not look over the top of the waving 
gram. Onl\- by looking up and down the rows could anything be seen. 
Suddenly he saw crossing one of the rows, not fifty \-ards in advance 
of him, a large body of Confederate troops. Thinking that no place 
for him. he turned his horse and rode toward the river, slowly at 
first, then, when he thought himself concealed from the enemy, at a 
full gallop General Polk spied him galloping away, and said to his 
men, " There goes a Yankee ; you ma\' try your marksmanship on him 
if \-ou like." But no one fired. 

Reaching the landing-place Grant found his troops all embarked, 
and the steamers in the act of pushing off. Close behind him came 
the enemy, their bullets whistling overhead, and their shouts ringing 
in his ears. He was on the crest of the high bank of the river, an 
almost perpendicular bank of cla\-. at the foot of which was a level 
stretch of sand, across which he must ride to reach the edge of the 
water. The captain of the nearest boat which had pushed out ran a 
single plank ashore, and shouted to him to hasten "My horse 




Page 159. — Hai i Lt >ifc.LDr> ui '6: 



GRANT AT BELMONT. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 161 



seemed to take in the situation," writes Grant, in his " Memoirs." 
" There was no path down the bank, and every one acquainted with 
the Mississippi river knows that its banks in a natural state do not 
vary at any ^reat an^le from the perpendicuhu*. My horse put his 
fore feet over the bank without hesitation or urging, and witli his 
hind feet well under him slid down the bank and trotted aboard the 
boat, twelve or fifteen feet away, over a single gang-plank." 

As the transports began to move up stream the Confederates, 
though at some distance from the bank, opened fire. The Union gun- 
boats returned shells, which wrought sad havoc in the Confederate 
ranks. Little damage was done to the soldiers on the boats. Gen- 
eral Grant had a narrow escape from death, as a rifle-ball passed 
lengthwise through a sofa in the cabin on which he had been lying 
but a moment before. 

Though the forces engaged were inconsiderable, Belmont was a 
sharp-fought battle. The Union armies lost in ail 607 men ; of whom 
120 were killed, 383 wounded, and 104 captured or missing. The 
Confederate loss amounted to 641 ; of whom 105 were killed, 419 
wounded, and 117 missing. The Confederates kept the field, but the 
great object of Grant was accomplishecL lie had shown the Confed- 
erates that Columbus was always open to attack, and that it would 
be unsafe to detach troops from that point to reenforce Confederate 
armies elsewhere. 

This battle marks the close of the great military operations in 
the West during 1861. l^ut before we turn our attention to the work 
of the armies in the East, two anecdotes, showing something of the 
personal good feeling that may e.xist between officers whose ideas of 
duty force them to fight on opposite sides, may be of interest. 

After the battle of Belmont the commanding officers of the hos- 
tile armies, with their staffs, exchanged several visits to arrange the 
details of paroles, exchange of prisoners, and such matters. On one 
of these visits Colonel Buford, of Grant's staff, with several other 
Union officers, was the guest of General Polk. Luncheon was served. 



162 BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

The wine was passed around. " Gentlemen," said Colonel Buford. 
looking slyly at the Confederate officers, " let us drink to George 
Washington, the Father of his Country." " And the first Rebel," 
quickly added Genera! Polk, and the toast thus amended was drunk by 
all in amit}'. 

A little later. General Cheatham, Polk's second in command, and 
General Grant got into a conversation about horses, of which both 
were ver}' fond. For an hour or more the}' chatted amicably. At 
last the time came to part. 

" Well, general." said the Southerner, " this business of fighting 
is a troublesome aftair. Let us settle our political difterences by a 
grand horse-race over on the Missouri shore." 

"I wish we could," responded Grant; and. soldier though he was, 
he probabh' would have liked to bring the war to an end then and 
there. 





CHAPTER VIII. 

CAMPAIGNING IN WEST VIRGINIA. SKIRMISHES AT CARNIFEX FERRY AND CHEAT MOUN- 
TAIN. THE DESTRUCTION OF GUY.4NDOTTE. THE EXPEDITION TO HATTERAS INLET. 

PORT ROYAL. BATTLE OF BALL'S BLUFF. BATTLE OF SANTA ROSA ISLAND. 

CLOSE OF 1 86 1. 




jS^iEANTIME the hostile forces in the East had not been wholly 
inactive, although the disastrous battle at Bull Run had 
put an end to campaigning in Virginia in 1861. But in 
West Virginia both belligerents were active, and several 
collisions occurred. Along the Atlantic coast, too, the Federals, by 
means of combined military and naval expeditions, had succeeded in 
gaining footholds within the territory of the Confederacy. But these 
latter expeditions belong rather to the history of the naval branch of the 
Union forces than to the narrative of the work of the army. 

In West Virginia were stationed the Confederate generals Floyd and 
Wise. After the battle of Bull Run, Gen. Robert E. Lee was sent to 
consolidate the armies of the other two, and hold the State against the 
constant advance of the Union armies under Generals Cox and Rose- 

i(;3 



104 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

crans. But the L^nion sentiment of the people of West Virginia had 
never wavered. The continued successes of the Federal forces had 
strengthened this sentiment, and Lee found it a hopeless task to preserve 
Confederate domination in a State wholly united in its dev'otion to the 
Union. 

At Carnifex Ferry the forces of Rosecrans and Floyd meet. The 
Federals have had a severe march of seventeen miles, over hard mountain 
roads. They outnumber the Confederates, but the latter are posted 
behind formidable earthworks. The battle which ensues rages all day, 
and at night Floyd steals away, leaving the Union forces masters of the 
field. This is on September lO. Two days later, the command of 
General Lee and the Union forces under Reynolds clashed at Cheat 
Mountain. Here, again, the Federals were successful, and the Confeder- 
ates withdrew. The loss in both battles was trivial. 

One skirmish followed another quickly. In each the story of the 
one preceding was repeated. The Confederates invariably fell back, and 
by the close of the year the military power of the Confederacy in West 
Virginia was practically annihilated ; and this, too, without there having 
been fought one battle in which the loss on either side in killed, 
wounded, and missing exceeded one hundred and fifty. 

One disaster alone mars the Union record of success. One instance 
of intemperate revenge blackens the page of history upon which is re- 
corded the narrative of the Union campaigns in West Virginia. 

At the little village of Guyandotte, on the Ohio river, was stationed 
a small Union force, and at the post a recruiting station was maintained. 
The secessionist sympathizers in the county round about often said that 
men whose sympathies were with the Confederacy were inveigled into 
the recruiting office, entertained lavishly, and wheedled into joining the 
Union armv. This complaint, often repeated, came to the ears of a 
Confederate guerilla (or leader of irregular cavalry), named Jenkins, 
who was operating in the neighborhood, and he made a descent upon 
Guyandotte. killed all who resisted, and rode away with over a hundred 
prisoners. The news of this exploit came to the L^nion forces in some- 



BATrLE FIELDS OF '6i. 165 

what distorted form. The secessionists in the village, it was said, had 
given an entertainment to the Federal soldiers, and had secretly notified 
Jenkins to choose that time for his raid, as he would then find the Fed- 
erals off their guard. Exasperated beyond control by this story, a regi- 
ment of Virginia volunteers, under command of Colonel Zeigler, set out 
to burn the house of every man in the village suspected of disloyalty. 
As a result, nearly the whole village was destroyed, friend and foe suffer- 
ing equally. 

Along the Atlantic coast the autumn of 1861 witnessed great 
activity, both military and naval. Two joint expeditions were fitted out 
for the capture of important points on the seaboard held by the Con- 
federates, which merit some attention here because of the part taken in 
them by detachments of the United States army. The first of these 
expeditions set sail from Hampton Roads on the 26th of August. Its 
destination was Hatteras Inlet, — a break in the outer bar of sand near the 
famous Cape Hatteras, giving entrance to Pamlico Sound. This was a 
convenient harbor for blockade runners, and the Confederates had forti- 
fied the entrance strongly. To reduce the forts was the task of the 
Union expedition, which consisted of nine naval vessels, under command 
of Commodore Stringham, and troops to the number of nine hundred, 
commanded by General Butler. The forts were speedily silenced by the 
guns of the men-of-war, and Butler's men took possession of them 
without a fight. Some weeks later they were compelled to defend their 
post against the assaults of the enemy ; but they maintained their ground 
manfully until the spring of '62, when, with reenforcements, they drove 
the enemy from his stronghold on the neighboring island of Roanoke. 

A second combined military and naval expedition was that against 
the Confederate forts at Port Royal, which set sail on the 29th of 
October. In this expedition again the navy won all the laurels, the 
representatives of the army being given only the sorry privilege of 
garrisoning the forts which had been taken by the valor of the blue 
jackets.' The battle occurred upon the same day on which Grant was 

' For accounts of these expeditions see "Blue Jackets of '61." page 45. 



166 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

leading the untried Western soldiery against the Confederate camp at 
Belmont. The war had spread from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, from 
the Potomac river to the Gulf of Mexico. 

On the Potomac line there had been little but petty skirmishing 
since that terrible day of Bull Run. McClellan was organizing the army 
of the Potomac. He was drilling men into machines, and was deaf to 
the clamor of the country for an advance. But in the mild, hazy Indian 
summer days of October a misinterpreted order for a " demonstration " 
brought on a battle, and the battle proved to be a disaster for the Union 
cause. 

Some thirty miles above Washington, on the Potomac river, the 
Virginia bank rises steep from the water's edge to the height of thirty 
feet or more. The steep slope is wooded, and covered with a dense 
mass of underbrush. From a farmer living near by it had derived the 
name of Ball's Bluff. At the crest of the bluff was an open clearing, of 
some seven acres in extent, shut in on three sides by the forests. The 
fourth side was the edge of the steep bluff. In the middle of the river 
before the bluff is a long, narrow island, known as Harrison's Island. 

On the clearing at the crest of the bluff were seven hundred 
Federal troops, on the 21st of October, 1861. They were detached 
from the First Minnesota and Twentieth Massachusetts regiments, and 
had been reconnoitring the enemy's position at Leesburg, Va. Why they 
had chosen as a halting-place this worst of all possible military positions 
has never been explained. 

Across the river, on the Maryland shore, was the first battalion of 
the California regiment, in command of Col. E. D. Baker, an ex-Senator 
of the United States, and an intimate personal friend of President Lincoln. 
To Baker came galloping an aide, with an order from General Stone. 

" In the event of heavy firing in front," read the order, '* you may 
either call back Colonel Devens or reenforce him, at your discretion." 

The firing was heavy as Baker read the order. From its sound he 
concluded that the enemy was bringing a heavy force against Devens' 
seven hundred men. His first thought was to bring the threatened 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 167 

troops back across the river, out of harm's way. But how to do it was the 
question. The river was high, and running like a race-way between its 
steep banks. There were ferry-boats somewhere, the soldiers said. A 
search led to their discovery. But what boats ! Two rickety scows, 
each capable of carrying twenty-five men. What chance would seven 
hundred men have to escape across a roaring torrent in such craft as 
these, with a pitiless enemy in their rear? 

But, though the boats were inadequate for the withdrawal of the 
troops. Baker thought they might be employed to ferry over reen- 
forcements, while the enemy was kept employed by the troops already 
on the bluff. From a neighboring canal a huge flat-boat was obtained, 
in which the men of the California regiment were taken from the 
Maryland shore to Harrison's Lsland. Thence they were to be ferried to 
the Virginia side in the two scows. The work was begun. Baker stood 
on the shore of the island watching the scows making their sluggish trips 
across the foaming river. Suddenly there appeared on the crest of the 
bluff a Federal officer. 

" Colonel ! " he shouted, " we can see three regiments of the enemy 
coming down from Leesburg." 

"All right," responded Baker, cheerily; "be of good cheer. There 
will be all the more for .us to whip." 

Back and forth like shuttles went the scows, until nearly two 
thousand Federals were on the Virginia side. Baker himself crossed 
early, and took command of the field. The enemy made no sign during 
the early part of the day, but skulked in the woods, and allowed the 
blue-coats to cross the river unopposed. Perhaps some astute Con- 
federate officer fully understood the hopeless trap into which those blue- 
clad soldiers were being led. 

At four o'clock a fierce yell rose from the Confederates concealed 
in the woods, and the bullets from their muskets began to fly across the 
open field. Most of the Union troops were lying down behind a slight 
slope in the ground ; but this gave them little shelter, for hundreds of 
the Confederate sharp-shooters climbed into trees, and poured a deadly 



168 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

plunEjiiii; tire upon the blue-coats below. After the nuiskctr\' had done 
its part, the Confederates sallied forth, and made repeated, but ineffectual, 
charges. The Federals had two howitzers and a rifled ij^un on the ground, 
and these made sad havoc in the enemy's ranks. Colonel Baker was 
foremost in the fight. Fighting on foot, he went from one part of the 
held to the other, here pointing a gun, there cheering on a charge, again 
saying a kind word to a wounded man, and at another time aiding with 
his own arm to beat back the enem}''s adxance. His activity drew upon 
him the attention o( the enemy. About his head flew nu'riads of bullets. 
At last, out o( the smoke of a Confederate volley, strode a tall, brawny 
man. His hat was thrown off. His hair, untrimmed and red, floated 
in the breeze. With cool deliberation he walked rapidly toward Baker, 
and when within Ave paces of him lifted a six-chambered, self-cocking 
revolver, and emptied its contents into the body oi' the Union commander. 
The victim reeled ; but, before he had fallen, a slug from a Mississippi 
yager tore a great hole in his side, and a bullet crashed through his 
skull. Thus, pierced with unnumbered wounds, he fell dead. 

But not unavenged. At his side stood Captain Bieral, his fellow- 
officer and trusted friend. As Baker fell, the fellow who had killed 
him stooped to take his sword as a troph\'. Then Bieral, catching him 
b}' the throat, blew out his brains, and picking up the prostrate body 
of his dead leader bore it safel\- out oi' the fight. 

Robbed of their commander, the Union troops soon lost heart. A 
retreat was ordered by the second in command ; but with a merciless 
enemy behind them, and steep banks and a swifth" rushing river 
before them, the retreat speedih- became a rout. At first in due 
order, and with detachments behind to guard the retreat, the troops 
began to descend the perilous bluft'. But soon the rear-guard gave 
way. Men, maddened by terror, threw themselves over the cliff, cast 
themselves upon those below. The boats were overcrowded, and one 
was soon seen to sink in the middle of the stream, carr\'ing down 
with it many wounded men. The enemy b\- this time had gained the 
crest of the blufl", and stood there pouring a pitiless fire down upon 




Page 160. — Battle fields of '61. 



THE DEATH OF BAKER. 



BATfLE FIELDS OF '6i. 171 



the tossing mass of men below. Many plunged into the icy river, and 
strove to swim to the further shore ; but nearly all sank beneath the 
waves ; some, because of exhaustion, others, hit by the flying bullets. 
Boulders and dismounted cannon were rolled down upon the wretched 
throng at the foot of the bluff, crushing all that stood in their path. 
Men called for quarter; officers shouted out that all would surrender 
if the pitiless slaughter was stopped ; but their voices were lost in the 
din. There were no flags to haul down, for the colors had been 
wrapped about great stones and thrown into the river. But at last, out 
of mere weariness, the enemy ceased his fire and made prisoners of 
all who stood on the Virginia side of the river. 

At midnight a dolorous column took up the march for Leesburg. 
Twenty-two commissioned officers and seven hundred and ten soldiers 
were in it, prisoners of war to the Confederate army. It had been a 
stunning blow to the Union cause, and none of the prisoners could 
tell why the battle which opened so favorably had ended in disaster. 
Some one had blundered — that they knew — but who ? To this day 
the responsibility for the disaster at Ball's Bluff remains undeter- 
mined. 

Yet one more battle remains to be described before the narrative 
of military activity in 1861 is complete. We have seen how Fort 
Pickens, at the entrance to Pensacola harbor, had been saved to the 
Union by the energy and pluck of Lieutenant Slemmer. In June, 1861, 
the fort had been reenforced by detachments of troops from the North. 
Among these troops was the New York Sixth, — a Zouave regiment, 
recruited among the roughs of the great city, and familiarly known as 
" Billy Wilson's Lambs." These Zouaves were objects of peculiar 
hatred among all Southerners, who believed them to have been selected 
purposely, b'^'-ause of their lawless and brutal characters. A newspaper 
article, describing (wiih how much truth it is impossible to tell) the 
scene at the mustijring in of the Zouaves, had been widely copied 
down in Dixie, and the Southerners were little to blame if they 
thought that the blackest depths of the purlieus of New York had been 



lurri.i'. Kii'i.Ds OK •(.!. 



raked in the search for men for this command. " The}- carried a 
shiMt knik', about sc\cn inches in leni:[th." says the article referred to. 
" between a sort of bow ie knite And buteiier knife in shape. Man)' 
also had revoKers. — one or two beinL; intended for the arms of each 
man. as well .is .i shuii;- shot and a Minie rifle. . . Amid >-ells 

o\ • Heath to the TIul; Ui;lies ! ' Wilson saiil that. thoui:!^h he miijht 
be the first m.m slain, he had but one thing to ask, which was that 
e.ieh one o{ his followers shouKl secure his man and avenge his blood. 
Th.it they \\\niKl do so he again c.iUed upon them to swear, and 
m.iiehed .iroiuul the h.ill hoKling up the flag and his sword, .ind 
aeciMupanied b\- two otlicers. the one on the right bearing a banner 
inscribed ' TiiK l^MON lV\i'rAi.iON ok Zoiavks: Death to Secks- 
siOMsrs ! ' while the other otVicer, on his left, held up in both hands 
a bowie knife .uul re\olver. Wilson shouted to them to swear, and 
the\- responded with shouts i>f ' Hlood ! Blood ! Blood ! We swear ! ' " 

Hut, .if'ter .ill their \ery s.mguin.uy oaths, the records of histor\- do 
not show that Wilson's Zouaves were either ver)' dashing soldiers or 
(sa\e in the imagination of Southerners') \er\- terrible enemies. 

Oil the oth o\' October. iSoi, the "Lambs" were in camp on Santa 
Rosa Isl.md, some dist.mce from l-'ort Pickens. In Fensacola were sev- 
er.il thous.md Confeder.ite soldiers, and a plan was laid to surprise the 
Zouaves .vml wijie them out of existence. Wilson himself was the chief 
object o\ their hatred, and to him it was determined no quarter should 
be given. About fourteen hundred picked troops were chosen to take 
part in the expedition, which left Tensacola in several steamers on the 
night of October v^^, and l.mded on the island, some five miles east of 
the Zouaves' c.imp, .it two o'clock the next morning. In three columns 
the assailants marched silentlx ilown the sand)' island. The night was 
at its blackest when the Zouaves were roused from their <,k\;p by firing 
along their picket line. Hardly had they time o leap tb their feet and 
seize their weapons when the enem)- was upo»: them, char nng down 
between the tents, firing right aiul let't. .uul m ik . !lv: . ring with 
cries of " He.ith to Wilson I Xo quarter!" 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. I73 

The surprise was complete. The Zouaves could make no concerted 
defence. In a disordered mob they fled from their camp, firing wildly 
at the enemy, who made the mistake of stopping to fire and plunder 
the tents. The noise of battle and the glare of the burning camp 
roused the garrison of Fort Pickens. The long roll beat, and soon 
four companies came to the scene of action on the double-quick. 
Behind these rcenforcements the Zouaves re-formed their shattered ranks, 
and all advanced to the camp. Here they found the Confederates given 
over to the pleasing pursuit of " loot," their ranks broken, their arms 
laid aside. Before the charge of the Federals they fled wildly, giving 
no heed to the efforts of their officers to rally them. Back toward 
their boats they ran, the Federals following close upon their heels, their 
aim growing deadlier with the brightening light of day. Under a heavy 
fire the Confederates crowded upon their boats and pushed off; but the 
end of their troubles was not yet. So fierce a volley was poured into 
one small launch that it sank, and carried down with it its entire freight. 
It was a disastrous ending to an affair which, at the outset, had promised 
to be a brilliant success. 

The year 1861 went out with the Confederates exultant over an 
almost uninterrupted scries of victories. Bull Run, Wilson's Creek, 
Lexington, and Ball's Bluff, the chief battles of the year, had ended 
in triumph for them. The Federals had won some minor victories with 
the navy along the Atlantic coast, but the chief spoils of war had 
fallen to the Confederacy. A feeling of over-confidence spread over 
the South. " We are invincible," was the thought of the Southern 
people. " We need hardly to exert our utmost strength to secure the 
independence for which we are fighting." And so enlistments fell off, 
armies rested inactive, the government underrated the problems, military 
and financial, with which it had to grapple. In later years the South 
recognized in this over-confidence the first great reason for its over- 
throw. 

Meantime the North was all activity. McClellan was drilling the 
army of the Potomac ; Burnside's expedition was forming ; Grant was 



174 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

preparing to move upon Fort Henry and Fort Donelson ; enlisting was 
going on apace. The very disasters of the year nerved the government 
and the people to renewed ettort ; and the Titanic operations of later 
years showed that upon united and continued effort the military destiny 
of a people depends. 





CHAPTER IX. 

CAMPAIGNINC; IN KENTUCKY. THE BATTLE OF PRESTONBURG. BATTLE OF MILL SPRING. 

THE ADVANCE INTO TENNESSEE. GENERAL GRANT TAKES FORT HENRY. 

PREPARATIONS FOR THE AITACK UPON FORT DONELSON. SKIRMISHING ALONG 

THE LINES. A COLD BIVOUAC. THE REPULSE OF THE GUNBOATS. CON- 
FEDERATES TAKE THE OFFENSIVE. SURRENDER OF FORT DONELSON. 




ITH the opening of the year 1862 Kentucky became the 
battle-ground of the warring hosts. The position of neu- 
trality which that State had endeavored to assume and 
maintain, had long since been ignored by both belligerents. 
The Confederates were first to invade the so-called neutral territory, by 
sending General Polk to seize and fortify the river bluffs at Columbus. 
The Federals followed suit in their seizure of Paducah, and before the 
first year of the war was ended the neutrality of Kentucky was a thing 
of the past. 

The new year found the Confederates strongly established in Ken- 
tucky. Polk was at Columbus ; Albert Sydney Johnston, one of the 
ablest officers of the Civil War, was at Bowling Green ; Zollicoffer was 

175 



170. BATTLE FIELDS OF oi. 



at Beech Grove, at the head-waters of the Cumberland, in the extreme 
eastern part of the State ; Humphrey Marshall, with a small force, was at 
Paintsville. also in the eastern end of the State. Nor was the Federal cause 
lacking in streni::th in Kentuck\-. In Louisville were the headquarters of 
General Don Carlos Buell. in command of the Department of the Ohio. 
He had General McCook. with forty thousand men. confronting Hardee 
at Bowling Green ; to a young Ohio officer. James A. Garfield, he had 
intrusted the duty of dispersing Marshall's puny force at Paintsville : 
while General Thomas was assigned to that part of the State in which 
Zollicotfer had established his stronghold. 

After a severe march, over rugged roads, and in an inclement and 
wintr)- season. Colonel Garfield met his enemy at the little hamlet o( 
Prestonburg. The contest was short, sharp, and decisive. " Give them 
Hail Columbia ! " shouted Garfield, stripping ofl' his coat and thro^^■^ng 
it into a tree, preparatory- to leading a charge. In his shirt-sleeves he 
dashed up the hill at the head of his troops. 

"Why. how many are there of you?" cried an astonished Con- 
federate, as the line swept into view. 

"Twenty-five thousand men. you rebel.'" answered an officer. 

The half-drilled Confederates broke and fled, \\-ithout waiting to see that 
twenty-five hundred would have been a big estimate for Garfield's force. 
When night fell over the mountain Marshall burned his camp, abandoned 
all the positions that he still held, and fled precipitately. Garfield was 
made a brigadier-general for his part in this battle. This was on the 
7th of Januar>-. and the battle is known as the Battle of Prestonburg. 

Victor)- followed fast upon victory for the Federals in Kentucky. 
We have said that the Confederate General Zollicotfer had established 
himself on the upper waters of the Cumberland, in the eastern part of 
the State. His men had thrown up extensive earthworks at Mill Spring, 
mounting twenty- cannon and extending over a vast area. Indeed, the 
works were too extensive to be held by the ten thousand men in Zol- 
licof^er's command, as the sequel showed. Moreover, the Confederates 
had chosen a bad spot for the maintenance of so large a body of 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. ]77 

troops. The rugged, sparsely populated country round about was wholly 
unfitted for foraging. Though the neighborhood was ransacked by men 
spurred on by hunger, food in sufficient quantities could not be found. 
In the dead of winter the soldiers were reduced to a single ration of 
beef and half a ration of parched corn daily. 

Against this Confederate outpost General Buell sent an expedition, 
in command of General Thomas. The commission was accepted with 
alacrity, and on the 17th of January, Thomas, with about four thousand 
men, was at Logan's Cross Roads, some ten miles from the Confederate 
position. A driving rain had made the roads almost impassable, and 
the bivouac of the soldiers anything but pleasant. But Thomas, by 
arduous personal effort, succeeded in massing his troops, and made 
preparations for an immediate attack. 

In the mean time another general had arrived to take command of 
the Confederate forces. Major George B. Crittenden, a brother of a 
prominent Union officer, and a son of a United States senator, who was 
still giving his best services to the Union cause, had superseded Zolli- 
coffer. He scanned the position held by the Confederates, and concluded 
that it was untenable. " It will be better for us to march out and 
attack the enemy than to await him here," he said, and called a council 
of war to discuss the plan. All agreed with him, and that very night, 
at midnight, the Confederate column moved out of camp in the midst 
of a drizzling rain, and turned down the mountain roads toward Logan's 
Cross Roads, where Thomas was encamped. General ZoUicoffer led the 
column. Four thousand men, ragged, footsore, hungry, badly armed, 
but withal brave and dauntless, followed him. 

So quickly had the Confederates determined upon this manoeuvre, 
and so rapid was their march, that they confidently expected to sur- 
prise Thomas. But the Union soldier was a veteran. He had fought 
through the Mexican War, and was not to be taken unaware. His 
cavalry pickets met the advancing column at early dawn, and the crack 
of their rifles and the thunder of galloping horses on the road carried 
the alarm to the Union camp in ample time for the boys in blue to 



178 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

catch up their guns, buckle on their cartridge-boxes, and fall in, 
while the long roll was beating. The line thus hastily formed fell back 
before the onslaught of the Confederates, who dashed forward carrjMng 
all before them. The Union left, resting on the side of a bare hill, 
was exposed to the attacks of the enemy, and on that point they 
concentrated their strength. Thither went Zollicoffer, with his staff, to 
urge on the Confederate attack : and there, too. went Fr\-e, with the 
Fourth Kentucky, to support the Indiana troops who were being driven 
back b\- the Confederate advance. 

With the hurr>Mng of troops forward, through the rain and mist, 
commands lose their identit}'. friends can hardly be told from foes. 
Zollicoffer. with a white rubber coat concealing his uniform, rides out 
before his troops with an aide at his side. To him in friendly guise 
comes Colonel Fr\'e. For some unknown reason Zollicoffer fails to 
notice Fr\-e's Union uniform, nor does Frj'e obser\^e the gray seces- 
sionist garb of the aide who rides with Zollicoffer. In the woods near 
by was a regiment of Mississippians. Upon them Frj'e is about to 
direct the fire of his troops. 

"You are not going to fight your friends, are you?" says Zol- 
licoffer. 

" Of course not," responds Frye, wondering somewhat, as Zolli- 
coffer points at the Confederates as friends. 

At this instant the aide, recognizing Frj-e's uniform, fires a pistol 
at him. but misses. Fr\e. instantly comprehending the situation, draws 
his pistol and fires full into the breast of Zollicoffer, who falls without 
a groan, then, putting spurs to his horse, the Union officer gallops 
back to his troops. 

Up to this time the battle had raged with var}-ing success. Now 
the Confederates, and again the Federals, had the advantage, and the 
tide of battle swept back and forth over the bloody field, as the one 
side or the other was forced to retreat. But the fall of Zollicoffer 
disheartened his men. Though General Crittenden speedily took his 
place, and strove manfully to carve victory out of impending defeat. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 179 

his efforts were useless. Repulsed in several gallant charges, the Con- 
federates grew despondent, and at last a fierce charge by the Ninth 
Ohio, with the bayonet, pierced their centre, and threw them into 
hopeless rout. The retreat that followed was but a headlong flight. 
Men threw away their guns, their haversacks and canteens, — every- 
thing that impeded their flight. The Federals pressed hotly upon 
their rear, shooting down many and capturing more. By night the 
wearied, panic-stricken fugitives had sought and found shelter within 
the works at Mill Spring, out of which they had so gayly marched at 
midnight, the night before. 

The Federals pursued the foe to the very gates of his stronghold. 
Then preparations were made to assault the works early the next 
morning. On the surrounding hills the Union batteries were posted 
so as to completely command the enemy's earthworks. Before the 
ramparts scouts were examining the ground, so that the most advan- 
tageous line of assault might be chosen. That his prey might not 
escape him by the Cumberland river, which flowed behind the entrench- 
ments, Thomas posted a battery of Parrott guns on the bank, with orders 
to open fire upon any craft that might appear upon the river. But a 
steamer, the " Noble Ellis," succeeded in coming up to the Confederate 
camp, and before daylight she had ferried nearly all the troops across 
to the further side. At daybreak the Union artillery-men espied her, 
and right speedily demoHshed her with rifled shells ; but her work 
Was done. When the Federals assaulted the camp they found it 
abandoned ; and the great quantity of ammunition, arms, entrenching 
tools, and camp equipage, left behind, showed that the fugitives had 
not stood upon the order of their going. They had even left behind 
their regimental colors. 

"Well, general," remarked Colonel Frye to General Thomas, as they 
stood looking upon the scene of desolation, " why did you not send a 
demand for surrender last night? Then we might have bagged them all." 

"Hang it, Frye!" responded Thomas, ruefully; "I never once 
thought of it." 



180 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

But, thoui^h the Confederates had escaped complete capture, they 
were wholly disorganized, and could never again become an effective 
force. Crushed by defeat, destitute of means of transportation and of 
provisions, they were wandering in a sterile, inhospitable country. Their 
steps were turned toward Nashville, but the march was long and their 
sufferings fearful. " For a whole week we have been marching under 
a bare subsistence," wrote one of their officers, " and I have at length 
approached that point in a soldier's career when a handful of parched 
corn may be considered a first-class dinner. We marched the first few 
days through a barren region, where supplies could not be obtained. I 
have more than once seen the men kill a porker with their guns, cut 
and quarter it, and broil it on the coals, and then eat it without 
bread or salt. The suffering of the men, from the want of the neces- 
saries of life, of clothing, and of repose, has been most intense, and 
a more melancholy spectacle than this solemn, hungry, and weary 
procession could be scarcely imagined." 

Thus ended the battle commonly known as the Battle of "SUM 
Spring. It had been a complete victor}- for the Federal forces. Of 
the Confederates, 191 were killed, 62 were wounded, and 89 captured. 
The Union loss amounted to 247, of whom 39 were killed, the 
remainder wounded. Of the spoils of war that fell into the hands of 
the victors, there were twelve pieces of artillery, two army forges, one 
battery wagon, an immense quantity of small-arms and ammunition, and 
more than a thousand horses and mules. 

Let us now turn our attention to some militar\- movements of still 
greater importance in the West. 

In reading of the military operations of the great Civil War, it 
should be borne in mind that in nearly every case rivers or railroads 
determined the lines upon which campaigns were conducted. In high- 
ways the United States has always been deficient. Only by a railway 
or by a navigable river could an army be advanced with celerity, or, 
after having been advanced, could it keep up its communication with 
its base of supplies. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



181 



Now, in January, 1862, the Confederate line of defence west of the 
Alleghany mountains may be said to have been identical with the 
southern boundary line of the State of Kentucky. At Columbus and 
at Bowling Green were strong Confederate posts, and all Tennessee 
was strongly imbued with devotion to the Confederate cause. 

Let the reader turn to the map of Kentucky and Tennessee, and he 
will see how readily two rivers, the 
Tennessee and the Cumberland, 
offered a means of piercing the 
very centre of the enemy's line, 
and of carrying an invading force 
to the very heart of the enemy's 
country. To several Union offi- 
cers of rank this opportunity 
was evident in 1861. General 
Sherman, General Halleck, Gen- 
eral Buell, and General Grant, all 
urged the immediate fitting out 
of an expedition for the inva- 
sion of Tennessee by way of 
the Tennessee river ; but Mc- 
Clellan, whose influence was then 
all powerful, opposed it, and for 
a time the project was dropped. 

Meantime the Confederates 
saw how greatly their safety was menaced by these rivers, and built two 
powerful forts to close them to all hostile vessels. . At the point at 
which they cross the State line the two rivers flow almost parallel, 
twelve miles apart, and with their channels extending almost directly 
north and south. On the east side of the Tennessee river stood Fort 
Henry. In design the fort was powerful, constructed upon correct 
military principles, and mounting twelve heavy guns ; but it had been 
built upon low ground, hardly two feet above the river, and was, there- 




OPERATIONS ON WESTERN RIVERS. 



1S2 lUlTLE FIELDS OF '61. 



fore, in danger of inundation at the time of high water. As a matter 
of fact, when the day of trial came, the Union gunboats and the 
Februar\- rise of the river arrived simultaneousl\-. and the defenders of 
the fort were obHged to fight knee-deep in water. 

On the west bank of the Cumberland, twelve miles from Fort 
Henrv. and connected with it by a good road, stood Fort Donelson. It 
was built on the lofty blufts bordering the river, and was a spacious and 
formidable work. Within its ramparts more than one hundred acres 
were enclosed. Two water batteries guarded the approach b_\- the river, 
and rifle-pits, breastworks, and a long line of abatis, combined with the 
natural ruggedness of the ground, made the fort seem impregnable to 
assault by land. 

To take either of these forts would be to force Albert Sydney John- 
ston to abandon his laboriously constructed works at Bowling Green, and 
retire from the soil of Kentucky with all possible speed, lest he should 
become hopelessly surrounded by Union troops. To take both forts 
would be a crushing blow to Confederate power in Kentucky and 
Tennessee. 

Grant felt confident of his ability to drive the Confederates from 
these works, and. although he had experienced more than one rebuft' from 
his superior officers, he telegraphed to General Halleck that. " if per- 
mitted, he (I) could take and hold Fort Henry, on the Tennessee." His 
suggestion was indorsed by flag-officer Foote. Four da\-s later, on Feb- 
ruary 2. 1862. the Union expedition against Fort Henr>- left Cairo. 

Seventeen thousand men in all made up the force that Grant pro- 
posed to lead into Tennessee. But for such an arm\- as this there were 
not enough river steamers at Cairo to furnish transportation. Therefore 
the procession of steamers set out at first carr>'ing but half the com- 
mand ; these they were to land near Fort Henr>- and return for the rest. 
It was a stately procession that pushed out upon the turbid, swift- 
flowing current of the Ohio, from the Cairo levee, on that bleak winter's 
dav. First went the gimboats. the four iron-clads. " Carondelet," " Cin- 
cinnati."" "St. Louis," and "Essex,"" leading, the three wooden gunboats 



BATrr.E FIELDS OF '6i. 133 



following close behind. In the wake of these low-lying, grim war craft 
came the towering river steamers, their decks and cabins rising in tiers 
high above the shallow hull, crowded with soldiers from the water-line 
to the "Texas," as the topmost cabin is called; the colors flying, the 
regimental bands playing, the men cheering. It was all like a holiday 
excursion. 

Up the Ohio river steamed the flotilla, and turned into the Ten- 
nessee. By sunrise the next morning it was within a few miles of Fort 
Henry. Grant and Foote, in the "Essex," move cautiously up toward the 
fort, to draw its fire and judge of the range of its guns. This they suc- 
ceeded in doing very effectively, — so effectively, in fact, that they drew the 
fire of a rifled cannon, which sent a shell crashing through the cabins 
and })antry of the gfmboat. 

The troops were landed, and the transports went back for fiirther 
reenforcements. Scouts scattered over the country, map[)ing out roads 
and choosing the shortest path for the attacking column to follow. In 
a large farm-house, by the side of the highway, they found a number of 
women gathered. Their fathers and brothers were in Fort Henry, and 
they hailed the blue uniforms of the scouts with threats and jeers. 

" By to-morrow night, ladies," said one of the scouts, somewhat 
boastfully, " there will be no Fort Henry; our gunboats will settle that." 
"Not a bit of it," responded a fair Confederate; "they will all be 
blown to pieces before they can get within range." 

The hint was enough for the scouts. Back they hastened to the 
ships and notified the commodore that the river was full of torpedoes. 
Boats were speedily sent out to search for and i)ull u[) the dangerous 
obstructions. The work was quickly done ; all the more easily because 
the rains and melted snow had so swollen the river that the greater part 
of the infernal machines had been swept away by the current already. 

The morning of the 6th dawned clear and mild. After breakfast 
the troops set out on their march toward the fort, and the four iron- 
clads got up steam and moved forward to a point within two miles of 
the fort, when they opened fire and continued a slow advance. 



1S4 BATILE FIELDS OF '61, 



Within Fort Homy there was dire consternation. Grant's force, miH- 
tar\- and naval, was known to closely approach twenty thousand. Gen- 
eral Tili^hman, the Confederate commander, had less than four thousand 
badly armed troops. The Confederates, it is true, had the advantage of 
a fortified position ; but a great part of the fort was already under water, 
and the river was still rising. After a council oi war. Tilghman . deter- 
mined to abandon the fort, taking the major part of his command across 
the narrow neck of land to Donelson, twelve miles away. To cover the 
retreat, Captain Taylor, with fifty-four men, was directed to hold the forr 
against all comers for an hour. 

Luckih- for Taylor, Grant's troops were dola\-ed on the roads, and 
the gunboats alone conducted the attack. The>- had b\- this time 
come within a few hundred >ards of the fort, and poured upon it a 
deliberate and well-directed fire. The heavy shells sought out every part 
of the fort, and, bursting, threw their heavy fragments in every direction. 
Kven the massive earthworks were little protection against these ponder- 
ous missiles. " The rifle-shot and shell penetrated the earthworks as 
readily as a ball from a na\y Colt would pierce a pine board," wrote 
Captain Ta\lor, \-ears later. 

But the Confederate defence was b\- no means half-hearted. Eleven 
guns were in the water battery, and these were handled in a way that 
soon convinced the Federals that they had to do with artillery-men of 
no mean ability. The heavy shots beat like giant sledge-hammers 
against the armored sides of the gunboats. The massive iron plates 
were bent and broken like frail boards. Rivets and bolts gave way, 
leaks were started. More than one shot flew in at an open port-hole, 
and the gunners soon learned to watch for the dangerous missiles, and 
to drop on their faces when one seemed likely to come in. The 
* boiler of the "Essex" was pierced by a solid shot, and the scalding 
steam poured out, doing fearful work along the crowded decks. 
Scores of the blue-jackets leaped overboard to avoid the deadly vapor. 
Captain Porter, who commanded the vessel, among them. This one shot 
alone sent the "Essex" out of the fight. 



K.%^r. 



.'■ i-m 



-«>:>«^n^siiit<lb^ .uf-^JhlVfm- 




Pagh iSs- — Battle kields ok '6i. 

THE BOMBARDMENT OF FORT HENRY. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6t. 187 

But, though encouraged for the time by the sight of the disaster 
on the " Essex," the garrison of the fort soon saw the futiHty of longer 
resistance. Their one rifled cannon had burst, striking down all the 
gunners who served it, and disabling the guns on cither side. The 
heavy Columbiad had been accidentally spiked with its own priming- 
wire. The Federal fire had dismounted so many other guns as to 
leave but four fit for use. Many of the buildings in the fort were on 
fire, the waters of the river were creeping higher and higher, threat- 
ening to drown the magazine, and all the time the gunboats stubbornly 
breasted the fierce current of the Tennessee, and swept the fort with 
their screeching, bursting shells. " It is vain to fight longer," said Gen- 
eral Tilghman, who had returned to the fort after having seen his troops 
safely started on the road to Donelson. " Our gunners are disabled — 
our guns dismounted; we can't hold out five minutes longer." Then 
the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy came fluttering down from the 
flag-staff, and in a moment the blue-jackets on the gunboats were cheering 
lustily over their victory. It is worthy of note, that when a cutter was 
sent off from the flag-ship to receive the formal surrender, the water had 
risen so high that the boat pulled directly to the sally-port over ground 
on which the day before the Confederate garrison had marched. Had 
the attack been deferred two days, the Tennessee river would have 
saved the Union forces their trouble by drowning out the garrison. 

Though it had been a pluckily fought contest on both sides, there 
was but little loss of life. The Confederates lost, in killed and 
wounded, i6 men, and, of course, the small garrison that held the fort 
was captured as a whole. The main body of Confederate troops, 
however, escaped to Fort Donelson in safety. The national loss was 
2 killed and 38 wounded, most of the latter being injured by the 
escaping steam on the " Essex." 

Thus was the Confederate line of defence first broken. But Grant 
lost no time in preparing to enlarge the gap. Three of the gunboats 
were ordered to ascend the Tennessee as far as possible, and destroy 
any vessels or stores which the Confederates might have accumulated 



188 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

along the river. This they did, and the high water enabled them to 
penetrate the Confederate territory as far as Northern Alabama, de- 
stroying several half-finished gunboats, and three river steamers, heavy- 
laden with military stores. Meanwhile General Grant rode over to within 
a mile of Fort Donelson to reconnoitre the position ; for he had already 
determined to lose no time before taking another expedition up the 
Cumberland river, and raising the Stars and Stripes over Fort Donelson. 
But he very quickly discovered that he had before him a task, in com- 
parison with which the taking of Fort Henry was a mere skirmish. 

A lofty hill at the head of an abrupt bend in the Tennessee 
river had been chosen by the Confederates as the site of Fort Don- 
elson. The two water batteries of the work commanded a long, straight 
reach of water, up which must come any naval expedition on . hostile 
errand bent. The fort itself was an irregularly shaped earthwork, mount- 
ing heavy guns, and enclosing about one hundred acres of ground. 
Outside of the fort proper were redoubts of logs, and field-works for 
infantry and artillery. Still further advanced were earthworks faced by 
a heavy abatis, reaching from Hickman's Creek, about a mile below 
the fort, to the little town of Dover, two miles above it. Within 
these formidable works were nearly twenty thousand men. Johnston had 
plainly foreseen the importance of this post to the Confederacy, and 
had hurried thither every man he could spare from his position at 
Bowling Green. "I determined," he said, "to fight for Nashville at 
Donelson, and to have the best part of my army to do it." But 
Johnston's fatal error was made when he sent, to command this fort. 
General Floyd, whose treasonable actions when Secretary of War under 
Buchanan had shown him to be destitute of that first of all soldierly 
qualities, honor. A great commander has said, " Better an army of 
hares led by a lion, than an army of lions led by a hare." General 
Grant himself has placed on record the statement that, knowing Floyd's 
character, he attempted manoeuvres that he would have never under- 
taken had Buckner (third in command at Fort Donelson) been in com- 
mand. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 189 

Fort Henry had been taken on the 6th of February. " I shall take 
Fort Donelson on the 8th," telegraphed Grant to Halleck. But the 
rains fell, and the snow on the wooded hill-sides melted, until brooks 
became rivers, puddles lakes, and the roads unfathomable quagmires, 
and on the 8th he telegraphed again : " I contemplated taking Fort 
Donelson to-day with infantry and cavalry alone, but all my troops may 
be kept busily engaged in saving what we have from the rapidly 
rising waters." But the delay was of service, after all, for Halleck 
hurried forward reenforcements from Missouri, from Illinois, from Ohio 
and Indiana, so that when Grant was ready to move with his fifteen 
thousand men across the country from Fort Henry, there were nearly 
as many more coming up the Cumberland in the wake of Foote's gun- 
boats. 

At nightfall, on the nth, the news spread among the Union troops 
in Fort Henry that on the morrow the march against Donelson was 
to be begun. Daybreak saw the camp all astir. The rain had 
stopped, the sun shone brightly, and there was a moist warmth in the 
air suggestive of spring. The soldiers, coming many of them from the 
far North, thought the short Tennessee winter was already over. When 
the columns started on their march, at eight o'clock, hundreds of sol- 
diers left behind overcoats, blankets, everything that would enable them 
to withstand the rigors of winter should the weather suddenly change. 

In two divisions, by two nearly parallel roads, the advance was 
made. General McClernand commanded the first. General Smith the 
second, — veterans and fighters both, and commanding right good troops. 
Smith had been captain of cadets at West Point when Grant was a 
" plebe," or under-classman, but he now fought cheerfully under the 
orders of his former subordinate. 

By sunset the Union advance touched the Confederate outpost. 
The crack of the pickets' rifles began to be heard. The skirmishers 
began a lively fusillade, which was ended by the gathering dusk. Both 
armies declared a truce for the night, and went into bivouac. 

Only a few hours of rest on the cold, damp ground did the weary 



190 B.Vrn.E FIELDS OF '6i. 

soldiers get before the gray light of coming dawn gave the signal 
for the bugle and the drum to sound the call of the reveille. Up 
from the ground they rose. Bacon and bread and coffee were hastily 
swallowed, and then awa>- o\er the rugged countr>- to spread out into 
long, slender, waving lines, stretching over hill and valley, and surround- 
ing the landward side of the enemy's works from Hickman's creek 
to Dover. Meanwhile, to amuse the enemy and to engage his atten- 
tion, the sharp-shooters and skirmishers scattered along the front 
and popped awa\- right viciously at every Confederate head which 
peered out of a rifle-pit or over an abatis. In hollow logs, behind 
stumps, in the rugged ravines, in holes hastily scooped, even perched 
high in the branches of trees, the sharp-shooters took up their posi- 
tions. They were wholly independent ; their cartridge-boxes were full, 
their haversacks well laden with bread and bacon. Their one duty 
was to harass the enemy to the best of their ability, until night 
made accurate shooting impossible. 

The gunboat " Carondelet " aided the sharp-shooters, by furiously 
cannonading the water batteries, but after two hours' firing was hit by 
two heavy solid shot, and forced to draw out for repairs. 

Back of the skirmishers and sharp-shooters were the line regiments, 
unseen bv the enemy, and marching to take up such positions as 
should hem the enemy in. But the day had not advanced very far 
when it became evident to McClernand, who commanded the division 
on the right, that he did not have enough men to cover the terri- 
tory assigned him. Lew Wallace, who had been left behind in charge 
of Fort Henry, was therefore summoned to the scene of the impending 
conflict. 

Once onl}- on this day did the hostile forces clash in anj-thing 
more serious than a skirmish. General Grant had given orders to his 
chiefs of divisions to avoid any act that might bring on a general 
engagement; but McClernand, harassed beyond measure by aseemingh- 
unsupported battery on the enemy's line, ordered an assault, and was 
summarily beaten for his pains. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 191 

McClernand's march along a steep ridge to the left of the 
enemy's lines had been greatly impeded by a Confederate battery 
perched on a steep hill across a narrow valley. The battery was 
Maney's, and though it stood boldly on the crest of the hill, unpro- 
tected by defensive works of any kind, it was flanked on either side 
by breastworks and lines of rifle-pits from which the bare face of 
the hill could be swept clear of any assaulting force. At the base of 
the hill, too, was a tangled, ponderous abatis. Thus, in order to take 
this battery, the attacking column would have to descend a hill covered 
with tangled underbrush, pick its way through a thorny abatis, climb a 
steep hill from which all sheltering timber had been cut away ; and all 
the way the path lay under the guns of three batteries, — Maney's firing 
directly from the front, Graves's from the left, and Drake's from the right. 
More than this were the lines of rifle-pits, tenanted by five regiments, 
ready to add their tempest of lead to the iron hail of the artillery. 
Yet to this desperate task did McClernand assign three regiments, — 
the 17th, 48th, and 49th Illinois. 

Two colonels, Morrison and Haynie, dispute for the honor of the 
command. Each claims seniority. They debate the matter before the 
brigade leaves its shelter on the ridge. 

" I will lead the brigade down to where the actual attack is to 
be made, then you may take it," says Morrison. 

" Very well." 

Down the hill go the Illinois men. They make no attempt at 
stealth. The bushes wave and rustle as they advance. Maney sees 
them coming, and opens with shells ; but they reach the bottom 
without much loss. Then Morrison goes over to Haynie, and says : — 

" Your turn now. There is the battery to be taken." 

Haynie is irresolute. He had insisted on having supreme command. 
Now that it is offered him he hesitates to assume it. 

" Let us take it together," he says, pointing to the battery. 

Morrison went back to his regiment. No one had chief command. 
In leading a forlorn hope, two heads arc not better than one. 



15)2 KATrLE FIKLHS OF '6i. 

Despite this error at the outset, the assault was manfull}- made. 
Up the steep hill, through and over the spiky abatis, went the pluck)- 
Illinoisians. Xo \eterans the>- ; but they advanced, in the teeth of a 
murderous hre, with the steadiness of regulars. The grape-shot and 
canister hurtled across the held, yet still the>- went on. firing as they 
went. The gunners began to fall ; Maney himself was hit. but stayed 
at his post. Still on came the thin blue line, until, just as it seemed 
about to sweep over the crest of the hill and bayonet Maney's gunners, 
the five Confederate regiments rose up ; over the long earthworks flashed 
a sheet of flame, and when the smoke cleared awa\- the assailants were 
seen to ha\e stopped. Great gaps were in their lines. Many of their 
officers had fallen. The sudden blow, dealt from an unsuspected 
quarter, dazed them. For a time they stood fighting, holding their 
ground against a murderous fire. Then Morrison was struck down, and 
the men broke, and drifted back, disorganized and doubting, to the foot 
of the hill. There the\- rallied on their standards, and tried again, only 
to be beaten back. A third time they tried it. with the same result. 
Then to those untutored soldiers came the idea that came to the famous 
Six Hundred at Balaklava : " Some one had blundered." Three regiments 
could not take a battery, when that battery was supported by five 
regiments, well entrenched, and two other batteries. Sadly they aban- 
doned the task ; all the more sadly as they heard the cries of their 
wounded comrades on the hill-side above them. For now a horrible 
thing happened. In some way the dry leaves and grass on the 
hill-sides had taken fire, and the flames and stifling smoke were slowly 
creeping upon the helpless wounded, many of whom were smothered or 
burned to death. Some, however, were saved b\- the Confederates, who 
clambered over their breastworks to go to the aid of the men whom 
the\- had just shot down. 

Night fell before Wallace could arrive, and the troops went into 
bivouac. It was a most extraordinary and unprecedented movement 
that Grant was making. With fifteen thousand men he was attempting 
to surround twent\- thousand. His line covered not less than eieht 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 193 

miles of rugged country, cut up with hills and steep, water-washed 
ravines. It was like a rubber-band stretched to its extreme limit; a 
pin-prick alone would have been enough to snap it. Why the Con- 
federates, with their forces already massed and well in hand, did not, on 
that afternoon, sally out of their works, pierce Grant's line, and force 
him back upon Fort Henry, is incomprehensible. It was the wise 
course; it was the easy course; indeed, it was the only course that 
could have possibly saved them. But Floyd sat supine in his tent 
until the arrival of Wallace, on the morning of the 14th, added the 
last link to the chain that held the Confederates prisoners. Moreover, 
by nightfall of the 13th, the Federal fleet arrived, bringing transports 
laden to the guards with reenforcements. Thus Floyd's golden op- 
portunity slipped away. 

It was a bitter, cold bivouac the boys in blue had to bear that 
night. The wind had veered around to the north, and brought with it 
the icy chills of snow-clad Northern fields. The ground, so moist and 
warm that morning, froze in icy clods. There were no fires along the 
lines, for the enemy must not be informed of their position. There were 
no tents. So the half-clad soldiers crouched in ravines, lay prone under 
the lee of a log, and sought in all ways to escape the cutting blast. 
Many walked up and down all night to keep in circulation the blood 
that was rapidly growing icy in their veins. 

Morning was eagerly hailed by all. To the half-frozen soldiers it 
brought activity and comparative warmth ; to Grant it brought Wallace 
and all the looked- for reenforcements. To Wallace he gave command 
of all the troops that had arrived by the river, and assigned him a posi- 
tion in the centre of the investing line, thus enabling Smith and Mc- 
Clernand, who held the left and right flanks, to contract and thereby 
strengthen their lines. Nothing more than this was done by the Federals 
on shore on the 14th. 

What, then, was Grant's plan? From his own words it is learned 
that he expected to take the works without a land battle. " The plan 
was for the troops to hold the enemy within his lines, while the gun- 



194 BATTLE FIELDS OF -61. 



boats should attack the water batteries at close quarters, and silence his 
guns if possible. Some of the gunboats were to run the batteries, get 
above the fort and above the village of Dover. I had ordered a recon- 
noissance made with the view of getting troops to the river above Dover 
in case they should be needed there. That position attained by the 
gunboats, it would have been but a question of time, and a ver}- short 
time. too. when the garrison would have been compelled to surrender." 

In other words. Grant proposed to cut off the enemy's lines of com- 
munication by land and b>- water, and leave starvation to do the rest. 
The Confederates, by their letharg\-. had allowed the Federal arm>- to 
complete its dispositions on land without striking a blow. The naval 
force was. however, not destined to succeed so easily. 

It was three o'clock on the afternoon of the 14th when Commodore 
Foote took his gunboats up the river and opened tire on the Confeder- 
ate water batteries. As at Fort Henr>-. the iron-clads took the lead, the 
wooden gunboats keeping at a respectful distance from the hea\y guns 
that peered over the fro\\Tiing ramparts on the bluff. Slowly the fleet 
advanced; the iron-clads "St. Louis." " Carondelet." ** Pitsburgh. " and 
"Louisville" stubbornly ploughing through the yellow flood of the Cumber- 
land, and hurling their solid shot from their bow guns. L'p to within 
four hundred yards of the batteries they advanced ; then the Confederate 
artillen.- began to show its teeth in earnest. All the upper works of the 
boats began to fall before the flying missiles. The pilot-houses of the 
" Louisville " and "St. Louis" were hit. the pilots killed, and the tiller 
ropes cut. so that the ve.ssels became unmanageable. On the " Caron- 
delet " a huge rifled cannon e.xploded. throwing fragments of iron in 
every direction over the crowded gun-deck. The Confederates tried to 
sink the gunboats by firing ricochet level, so that the shots would skip 
along the water and strike their target just at the water's edge. In this 
wav several dangerous wounds were inflicted upon the gunboats. An- 
other result of this way of firing was the great number of shot and shell 
that skipped upward from the water just high enough to dash into some 
open port. Seeing this the gunners began to give warning of the coming 





Page 195. — Battle melus of 61. 

SHARf-SHOOTERS AT FORT DONELSON. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. I97 

missile by calling out, "Lookout!" or "Down!" and the men, by- 
dropping to the deck, saved themselves. On the " Carondelet," at one 
of the rifled guns, were three young men who refused to adopt this 
course. 

"You can't dodge a cannon-ball," said they; "the only thing to do 
io 10 trust to luck." 

Soon a shot was seen skipping along toward the open port. 
" Down ! " shouted the gunner, and dropped just in time to escape the 
ball which took off his hat and the heads of the three rash men who 
trusted to luck. " Three sharp spats and a heavy bang told the sad 
fate of three brave comrades," writes an officer who saw the occurrence. 

Meantime the gunners in the shore batteries were having no easy 
time. The practice of the gunboats was excellent. Their heavy shells 
fell thick in the trenches, and the solid shot cut their way resistlessly 
through the earthworks. The clean-cut ramparts, the well-designed em- 
brasures, began to lose form, — to look like vast heaps of dirt. Moreover, 
for a time, though the gunners could see their shot strike the gunboats, 
the forward movement of the Federal fleet seemed unchecked. Nearer 
and nearer the vessels came ; the four-hundred-yard line was passed, the 
three-hundred-and-fifty-yard line was reached ; but then the luck}- shots 
that demolished the steering-gear of the " St. Louis " and the " Louis- 
ville " were fired, and those vessels drifted away out of the fight. Then 
the triumphant gunners cheered with a will. In their biggest rifled gun 
a ball was lodged. With the rammer it could not be budged. A cor- 
poral and his guard climbed the parapet, picked up a small log, and the 
combined strength of four pairs of willing arms rammed the missile 
home. " Now, boys," said the gunner, " see me take a chimney ! " He 
fired, and when the smoke cleared a chimney and a flag were seen to 
be the trophies of the shot. Soon after the gunboats dropped out of 
range, and victory remained with the defenders of the fort. 

That night a council of war met in Floyd's headquarters in Donel- 
son. Pillow was there, and Buckner. 

" We must cut our way out through Grant's line to-morrow morning," 



198 BATTLE FIELDS OF '61, 



said Flo>-d. " This fort cannot be defended with less than fifty thousand 
men. Wc will attack ?^IcClernand's division, rout it. and then eith : 
continue the attack upon the main army, or retreat b}- the Charlotte 
road." 

All that night within the Confederate lines there were regiments of 
infantry, troops of cavalry, and batteries of artillery marching toward the 
Confederate left, until ten thousand men were massed near the point at 
which the Charlotte road pierces the line o( earthworks. Outside, the 
Federal pickets were stamping about, swinging their arms, and more 
intent upon fighting back the numbing effects of the biting blast than 
alert to catch the sound of activity within the enemy's lines. 

Morning came ; reveille sounded ; the blanketed forms that lay on 
the snow began to show signs of life. Suddenly from the picket line 
come a shot, — anotlier. — a whole fusilade. Men spring to their feet, 
catch u\^ their guns, and begin to fall in line. The harsh roll of the 
drums mingles with the firing, that comes faster and faster from the 
pickets. Company after company is formed and breaks into column of 
fours, starting out on the double-quick to learn whether this was simply 
a skirmish on the picket line, or the forerunner of a general engagement. 
It is Oglesby's regiment of Illinoisians. that has been set upon by 
Pillow. Right valiantly the\- hold their ground. To their aid comes 
McArthur. and soon the whole of McClernand's division is engaged. 

Meantime General Grant has gone ofi" to the gunboat " St. Louis " 
to confer with Commodore Foote. who had been wounded in the river 
battle of the day before. As he rode down toward the river's bank he 
heard the noise of the conflict on his extreme right, but thought it 
nothing more than a lively skirmish. " I had no idea that there would 
be an engagement on land unless I brought it on myself." he writes, in 
his Memoirs. 

Still the Confederates continue to pour out of their entrenchments. 
Oglesby is driven back. McArthur tries to support him. but in vain. 
\V. H. L. Wallace, with six regiments and three batteries, dashes into 
action, but is unable to check the steady advance of the gray line. 



i 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



199 



" Send mc rcenforccmcnts at once," McClernand appeals to General 



Genrv Crccnts 




First' VhioTvIiivisioTv 
General M" CUrnand 



FoTt DoTLeZsorv. 



Lew Wallace, who commands the third division. Wallace doubts whether 
his instructions will permit him to do so. He sends an aide to General 



200 BATTLE FIELDS OP^ '6i. 



Grant's headquarters for further orders. " General Grant is down the 
river with the fleet," is the aide's report. Again McClernand sends for 
assistance, and this time General Wallace orders Colonel Cruft to move 
to the right and report to McClernand for orders. But an incompetent 
guide takes Cruft to a point where he has to withstand the brunt of the 
enemy's fire without rendering an)' material assistance to those to whose 
aid he had been sent. 

For an hour or more the conflict rages without intermission. Could 
one from some elevated point look down through the dense gray clouds 
of smoke that conceal the battle from view, he would see that the day is 
going against the Federals. On all sides they are being beaten back. 
Their ammunition has given out, and whole companies have ceased 
firing and sought shelter. Meantime the fury of the enemy's assault 
has in no way waned. His well-drilled regiments and batteries keep up 
a constant fire as they advance through the woods. The clouds of sul- 
phurous smoke, the sheets of lurid flame leaping from the muzzles of 
the guns, the thunders of the cannonade, the shouts of the combatants, 
and the cries of the wounded tell of the desperate conflict that is raging. 

By noon McClernand's division has been thrown into almost hopeless 
confusion. Buckner has issued from the centre of the Confederate works, 
and completes on tfie left of the division the work begun by Pillow on 
the right. The road to Charlotte is open to the Confederates if they 
see fit to carry out the programme determined upon at the council of 
the night before. But the madness- of conquest is upon Pillow. All the 
morning the success of his regiments has been uninterrupted. He fancies 
that he can now fall upon and annihilate Grant's entire army. Ignoring 
altogether his superior officer, General P'loyd, he sends off to General 
Johnston a hasty despatch, declaring " on the honor of a soldier " that 
the day is theirs. Then, ordering Buckner to press down upon Lew 
Wallace's right, he resumes the conflict. 

Now is, indeed, the critical moment for the Union cause. McCler- 
nand's division is demoralized. Cruft's brigade, which Lew Wallace sent 
to its support, has been beaten back. Grant, the master-mind, is absent 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 201 



frjm the scene of battle, and the exultant Confederates, flushed with 
Victory, press down upon Wallace's division, which now stands alone 
between the Union army and defeat. Let General Wallace himself tell 
how well the soldiers of his command met the demand of the moment : — 

" I was in the rear of my single rerhaining brigade," he writes, in 
the " Century," " in conversation with Captain Rawlins, of Grant's staff, 
when a great shouting was heard behind me on the Wynn's Ferry road ; 
whereupon I sent an orderly to ascertain the cause. The man reported 
the woods and road full of soldiers, apparently in rout. An officer then 
rode by at full speed, shouting 'All's lost! Save yourselves!' A hur- 
ried consultation was had with Rawlins, at the end of which the brigade 
was put in motion toward the enemy's works, on the very road by which 
Buckner was pursuing, under Pillow's mischievous order. It happened, 
also, that Col. W. H. L. Wallace had dropped into the same road, 
with such of his command as stayed by their colors. He came up riding, 
and at a walk, his leg over the horn of his saddle. He was perfectly 
cool, and looked like a farmer from a hard day's ploughing. 

" ' Good-morning,' I said. 

" ' Good-morning,' was the reply. 

"'Are they pursuing you? ' 

"'Yes.' 

"'How far are they behind?' 

" That instant the head of my column appeared upon the road. 
The colonel calculated an instant, and then answered, ' You will have 
about time to form line of battle right here.' 

" ' Thank you. Good-day.' 

" ' Good-day.' 

"At that point the road began to dip into the gorge; on the right 
and left were woods, and in front a dense thicket. An order was de- 
spatched to bring Battery A forward at full speed. Col. John A. 
Thayer, commanding the brigade, formed it on the double-quick into 
line ; the First Nebraska and the Fifty-eighth Illinois on the right, and 
the Fifty-eighth Ohio, with a detached company, on the left. The bat- 



202 B.\TTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

ten- CAme up on the run. and swung across the road, which had been lott 
oj>en for it. Hardly had it unlimbered before the enemy appeared an& 
firing began. For ten minutes, or thereabouts, the scenes of the morning 
were reenacted. The Confederates struggled hard to perfect their deploy- 
ments. The woods rang with ihusketn** and artillen.-. The brush on the 
slope \\*as mo\\"ed away with bullets. A great cloud arose and shut out 
the woods and the narrow \-alley below. Colonel Thayer and his regi- 
ments beha\-ed with great gallantn.-. and the assailants fell back in confu- 
sion and returned to the entrenchments. \V. H. L. Wallace and Oglesby 
re-formed their commands behind Thayer, supplied them with ammuni- 
tion, and stood at rest waiting for orders. There was then a lull in the 
battle. Even the cannonading ceased, and e\-en.-body w.as asking. What 
next?" 

At this moment General Grant rides up to the litde group that 
stands at Lew Wallace's side. He had come ashore, not expecting :a 
find a battle raging, but was met at the landing by Captain Hilh-er, 
who told him of the morning's disaster. Together Aey galloped up the 
line to the scene of the conflict. 

" I saw the men standing in knots, talking in Ae most excited 
manner," he writes, in his Memoirs : " no otficei^ seemed to be giving 
any directions- The soldiers had their muskets, but no ammunition, 
while there were tons of it close at hand. I heard some of the men 
say that the enemy had come out with knapsacks and ha\^ersacks filled 
with radons. They seemed to think that this indicated a determinatioa 
on his part to stay out and fight just as long as the provisions held out." 

But Grant, the trained soldier, does not accept this theorj*. He 
knows diat the knapsacks full of rations betoken that the eaemy intends 
to make a march, — a retreat. Wallace briefly tells him of d>e disaster 
on the right: how McClemand has been cut to pieces and a road 
opened for the enany's escape. With scarce a moments consideTation 
enteral Grant's resolution is formed. 

" Gendemen. the position on the right most be retaloMi. ' he said. 
Then to Colonel Webster ; " Some of our men are prett\" badly demoral- 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 203 

ized ; but the enemy must be more so, for he has attempted to force his 
way out, but has fallen back ; the one who attacks first now will be 
victorious, and the enemy will have to be in a hurry if he gets ahead 
of me." 

A moment longer he stays on Wallace's line. Riding down among 
the disheartened, wearied soldiers, he shouts: " F'ill your cartridge-boxes 
quick, and get into line ; the enemy is trying to escape, and must not 
be permitted to do so." Wallace, Webster, and the company officers 
take up the cry. The soldiers fall into line. Escape ! The enemy try- 
ing to escape ! Then he must be panic-stricken, not boldly determined 
upon a desperate battle, as they had thought. They fill their cartridge- 
boxes and call upon their officers to lead them forward. Grant sees they 
have taken heart, and rides away down to Smith's division, on the ex- 
treme left. When he is gone General Wallace remembers that he has 
left no more definite order than that quiet remark, " Gentlemen, the 
position on the right must be retaken." 

If the hill from which McClernand had been driven was to be 
retaken, Wallace must retake it. So much was clear to that officer, and 
he rode up to the Eighth Missouri and Eleventh Indiana regiments, and 
asked them if they were ready to charge the enemy's position. " Try 
us ! " the soldiers cried ; and in a moment the advance began, Col. 
Morgan L. Smith leading, a cigar in his mouth. From the crest of the 
hill there flashes a line of fire freighted with unseen, but deadly, bullets. 
Gaps appear in the long blue lines ; but their advance is not checked. 
At times lying flat on the ground, again creeping slowly through the 
underbrush, now running forward when the enemy's fire slackens, again 
dropping to the ground when its fury increases, the Federals work their 
way up the hill. A bullet cuts ofl" Colonel Smith's cigar close to his 
lips. A soldier runs out from the ranks and hands him a new one. 
"Thank you. Take your place now; we are almost up." Lighting the 
cigar, he puts spurs to his horse, and in a moment the Union lines 
sweep over the crest of the hill and drive back the Confederates. At 
three o'clock Grant's order has been literall}- fulfilled ; the position on 



204 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



the right has been retaken, and the avenue of escape \vh;-p "'".^v- 
opened in the morning is closed again. 

Meantime General Smith, on the Union left, has done a gallant dei.- 
From Wallace's division Grant had gone to him and directed him to 
storm the Confederate outposts in front of his division. It was a formi- 
dable position to assail; a steep hill had to be scaled, a ponderous and 
tangled abatis had to be pierced, and all under the fire of several regi- 
ments of the enemy snugly concealed in rifle-pits and breastworks at 
the summit of the slope. The line of rifle-pits comes .first; there is 
posted Hanson's brigade of Kentucky. Tennessee, and Mississippi rifle- 
men. Back of these is an inner line of breastworks, where another 
brigade and a six-gun battery are ready to give their comrades support. 

General Smith determines to lead the charge himself. Lanman's 
brigade of Iowa and Indiana men is to bear tlie brunt of the assault. 
The great guns of the batteries thunder behind them as the>- fall in line 
in the meadow at* the foot of the slope. On either flank of the long 
lino are companies of Birge's sharp-shooters, who are to keep up a 
fusilade as the storming party climbs the hill. Scarcely had the brigade 
appeared upon the meadow, when the enemy divines its purpose, and 
begins a furious cannonade. Musket-ball and rifle-bullet, shrapnel 
and grapeshot. pour upon the assailants. "Forward! " is the word; and 
without a cheer, with set faces and quick-beating hearts, the Federals 
move out into the held so swept by flying shot that one soldier said 
afterwards. "The bullets seemed too thick for a rabbit to go through 

alive." 

Directly in front of the centre o\ the line rode General Smith. He 
was a noble sight. Erect and soldierly he bestrode his horse, his gray 
hair floating in the breeze, his right hand grasping a sabre, and his left 
gripping firmly the reins that hold his frightened steed in control. In 
advance of his line, the one mounted man upon the slope, he was of 
course a conspicuous target for sharp-shooters, and the bullets whizzed 
thick about him. By no sign does he show any comprehension of his 
position. He sits his horse as rigidly as though on parade, and from 




Page 205. — Battle villu, m- \,i. 

SMITH'S CHARGE AT FORT DONELSON. 



BA^ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 207 

time to time glances back at the waving line behind him, as though 
to critically examine its alignment. " I was nearly scared to death," 
said a soldier who followed Smith that day, " but I saw the old man's 
white mustache over his shoulder, and went on." 

So onward up the hill moves the slender line of blue. Gaps begin 
to appear in it, and to disappear at the gruff "Close up, men; close 
up ! " of the officers. It is a command that has to be repeated very 
often. Behind the advancing line the ground is dotted with blue-clad 
forms, — officers and soldiers struck down by the leaden hail from the 
rifle-pits at the summit. Now the abatis is reached. Great trunks of 
trees, the branches cut short and sharpened, and so twisted and intwined 
together as to make a kind of infernal hedge, bars the advance of the 
soldiers. The enemy's fire quickens as this point is reached. The lads 
in blue begin to despair. "We can never get through that barrier under 
this murderous fire," they think. Signs of wavering appear in the line. 
Over his shoulder glances the grim, gray general. He sees the signs 
of weakness. "No flinching now, my lads! Here, this is the way; 
come on ! " And so crying, he puts his cap on the point of his sword, 
raises it high in air, and picks his way through the jagged timber. Men 
would be less than mortal were their blood not stirred by the sight of 
that bare, gray head leading them on so dauntlessly. After him they 
rush, break through the barricade, and form — though somewhat raggedly 
— on the other side. Now the day is nearly won. But fifteen or twenty 
yards more have to be travelled, and in a few seconds, with a cheer, 
the blue-coats swarm over the breastworks and drive the Confederates 
from rifle-pits and trenches to their inner line of defence. And this 
position, so valiantly won, is held, although Buckner himself comes deter- 
mined to beat back the enemy who have thus pierced his outer works. 

This assault has been made by the light of the setting sun. When 
darkness settles over the scene, the Confederates find themselves in hope- 
less flight. After a long day of gallant fighting they have in no wise 
improved their position. On their right the Federals have secured a 
lodgment within their lines ; on the left the road which Pillow had wrested 



208 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



from INIcClernand in the morning had been closed again by Wallaces 
advance in the afternoon. . Right bitterly did they condemn the folly 
which led Pillow to allow the ami}- to be cooped up again after he had 
opened an avenue of escape. More bitter still would have been their 
reproaches could they have known that his braggart despatch of the 
morning had been flashed all over the Confederacy, and that in all 
parts of the fair South-land the people were rejoicing in the victory 
won by their soldiers at Fort Donelson. 

All night a council of war sat in Pillow's headquarters. Hard words 
were bandied. P.ach officer strove to throw the responsibilit\- for failure 
upon the other. One great question was debated: How can we escape? 
To Floyd, it was a question of grave personal import. He knew that 
the people of the North had not forgotten his actions while Secretary 
of War, and he feared their vengeance. Pillow was anxious and timid. 
Buckner alone of the three retained his soldierly composure. An officer 
sent to discover whether a way of escape could be cut through the 
Union lines reported that such an attempt would probabh" cost the 
lives of three-fourths of the troops. 

" No commander," said Buckner, " has a right to make such a 
sacrifice." 

•' Then we will have to capitulate," said Floyd ; " but, gentlemen, I 
cannot surrender ; you know m\- position with the Federals ; it wouldn't 
do." 

" I will not surrender myself nor the command," chimed in Pillow ; 
" I will die first ! " 

"Then I suppose the surrender will devolve upon me," said Buck- 
ner, with a tinge of contempt in his tone. 

And so it proved. Floyd resigned the command to Pillow, Pillow 
in his turn then transferred it to Buckner, who somewhat scornfully 
notified his colleagues that if they proposed to escape they must do so 
speedily, as after he should open negotiations with Grant no one would 
be allowed to leave the fort. Colonel Forrest, the trooper, straightway 
called together his cavalry, eight hundred in number, and b\' a road 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 209 



through myd and water, impassable for infantry, made his way through 

Uyiioyi 
the Coiifcdi^i ' atc lines to Nashville. Floyd and Pillow hastened to Dover, 

to wait for two steamers hourly expected to come down the river. The 

boats arrived. They bore four hundred soldiers, reenforcements sent to 

the aid of Fort Donelson. Honor and justice demanded that these 

men, if any, should be allowed to go back on the boats ; but Floyd 

ordered them ashore and loaded the boat with Virginia troops. The 

news of the flight spread about the camp, and thousands of soldiers 

came down to witness the embarkation. A Mississippi regiment was 

detailed to guaid the embarkation, with the promise that it should be 

taken with the Virginians ; but Floyd suddenly became affrighted, cut the 

ropes that held the steamer, and pushed out into the river with the 

jeers and hisses of the soldiers ringing in his ears. 'Pillow had already 

fled in a skiff. Then Buckner ordered the men to their quarters, and at 

daybreak sent to Grant for terms of surrender. 

" No terms except an immediate and unconditional surrender can be 
accepted," was the curt response of the Federal general ; " I propose to 
move immediately upon your works." 

There was nothing for Buckner to do but to yield. An answer was 
sent to Grant, in which the Confederate commander declared that he 
was compelled "to accept the ungenerous and unchivalric terms." White 
flags were hoisted all along the lines, and quiet settled down upon the 
scene of battle. At that very hour in Richmond and Nashville the 
newsboys were crying on the streets the morning papers, with full news 
of the great Confederate victory at Donelson. " This splendid feat of 
arms and glorious victory to our cause will send a thrill of joy over the 
whole Confederacy," said the " Richmond Enquirer." — " Enemy Retreat- 
ing ! Glorious Result ! ! Our Boys Following and Peppering their Rear ! ! 
A Complete Victory ! " was the way an enthusiastic journal in Nashville 
announced the supposed result. Pillow's foolish and premature despatch, 
sent Saturday afternoon, was responsible for this deception of the South- 
ern people and for the bitter disappointment that followed when the true 
news became known. 



210 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

Meantime the victorious troops, with bands playing and colors 
flying, were gayly marching into Fort Donelson. Says one of the 
soldiers. " One of the grandest sights in the whole siege, and one 
which comes only once in a century, was the triumphal entry into 
the fort on Sunday morning. The sight from the highest point in 
the fort, commanding a view of both river and camp, was imposing. 
There were, on one side, regiment after regiment pouring in, their 
flags floating gayly in the wind ; some of them which had been rent 
and faded on the fields of Mexico, and others with ' Springfield ' 
emblazoned on their folds ; one magnificent brass band pouring out 
the melodies of ' Hail Columbia.' ' Yankee Doodle,' etc., in such style 
as the gazing captives had never heard, even in the palm}- days of 
peace. On the other was a spectacle which surpasses all description. 
The narrow Cumberland seemed alive with steamers. First came the 
gunboats firing salutes ; then came little black tugs snorting their 
acclamations ; and after them the fleet of transports, pouring out 
volumes of black smoke, their banners waving gayly, firing salutes, 
their decks covered with people sending deafening shouts in response 
to those from the shore." 

For the Confederates it was no gala occasion. They knew they 
had fought bravely, and it was hard to think that the folly of their 
leaders should have brought them to captivity. Even Buckner felt 
this somewhat. After the formal details of the surrender had been 
arranged, he fell into friendly conversation with Grant, with whom he 
had been at West Point. 

"Had I been in command, general," said Buckner, "you woiild 
not have got up to Donelson as easily as you did." 

" Had you been in command," was Grant's courteous reply, " I 
should not have tried in the way I did." 

Of the forces engaged at Donelson and the exact loss on either 
side, it is impossible to speak with accuracy. General Grant, in his 
Memoirs, says, that on the day of the surrender he had under his 
command 27,000 men, while the total number of Confederates within 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 211 

the. fort at any time was about 21,000. The Union loss was 2,331, 
f whom 446 were killed. The Confederate loss in killed and wounded 
was about 2,000, while 15,000 prisoners fell into the hands of the 
victors. 

The fall of Fort Donelson was the first great and valuable victory 
^on by the Union arms durin^ the war. Its effects were immediate 
and far-reaching. Kentucky and Tennessee were immediately taken 
from Confederate control. Bowling Green, Nashville, and other im- 
portant points were speedily evacuated by the Confederates and seized 
by the Federal forces. Polk was compelled to abandon his frowning 
works at Columbus, and a standing menace to the Union cause in Mis- 
souri was thus removed. The news of the decisive victory spread 
abroad to foreign lands. The Confederate prospects, which had looked 
so bright after the news of Bull Run, Wilson's Creek, and Lexington, 
began to look less brilliant in the eyes of European financiers and poli- 
ticians. It was a sad reverse for the Southrons and a glorious victory 
for the Federals ; and the South mourned its reverses, while in the 
North, days of public thanksgiving, jubilee meetings, and a lavish 
bestowal of promotions upon the officers of the successful troops told 
of the estimation in which the victory was held. 





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BATITE FIELDS OF '6i. 213 

upon which the great waves of the Atlantic ceaselessly beat with a 
thunder like that of the cannon of the warring sections. 

It will be remembered that in August, i86i, a combined military 
and naval expedition had been sent against the forts that guarded the 
entrance to Hatteras inlet on the coast of North Carolina ; that the 
men-of-war had driven the Confederates from their works ; and that a 
small body of troops had been left to hold Fort Clark and Fort 
Hatteras, — the two captured forts. The evicted Confederates fled to 
Roanoke Island, that blocks the narrow channel connecting Albemarle 
and Pamlico sounds. Here they established themselves, threw up 
batteries, and sent to Richmond for reenforcements. To dislodge them 
would be to open all the northern part of North Carolina to invasion, 
and to clear a way for the Union troops to attack the Confederate 
stronghold at Norfolk from the rear. Seeing this, the Union author- 
ities began preparations for an expedition which should sweep away 
the Confederate defences on Roanoke Island and open Albemarle sound 
for the operations of the Federal army and navy. 

The command of this expedition was given to Gen. A. E. Burn- 
side, and to him was left the task of collecting the troops and gather- 
ing vessels for their transportation, — for the army was to go by sea 
from Fortress Monroe. By the 5th of January, 1862, the army and 
the fleet to carry it had assembled at Annapolis. The soldiers were 
chosen from New England. There were among them sailors who could 
rig a ship and navigate it ; carpenters who could build a boat or a 
bridge ; mechanics who could put together a dismantled locomotive, and 
engineers who could run it. Nearly 15,000 troops in all were to be 
employed. To carr)' them. General Burnside had got together a most 
motley fleet. The gigantic naval operations of the war, the blockade, 
in maintaining which thousands of miles of sea-coast were patrolled by 
armed vessels, had swept the Northern harbors clear of suitable sea- 
going craft. Canal-boats and barges, ferry and tug boats, coasting 
schooners and a few passenger steamers of light draught made up the 
ill-assorted armada. After taking aboard the troops at Annapolis. 



214 R\TTLE FIELDS OF '61. 

the whole fleet of more than eighty vessels cast anchor at Fortress 
Monroe. 

Here they remained two nights and a day, until January 11. Not 
six men in the whole nation knew whither the expedition was bound, or 
what the assemblage of so formidable a force in Hampton Roads could 
portend. The curiosity of the newspapers was unbounded. The impor- 
tunit)" of the public men at Washington was almost irresistible. A noted 
senator called upon the President, and fairly demanded that he should 
be told the destination of the expedition. After resisting his entreaties 
for some time. Mr. Lincoln at last said. — 

" Xow. I \\-ill tell you in great confidence where the>- are going, if 
you will promise not to speak of it to any one." 

• Vou may rely upon my discretion," responded the statesman, in 
his most impressive tones. 

*• Well. now. my friend." said Lincoln. " the expedition is going to 
sea " 

The senator took his hat and left in speechless rage. 

On the night of the nth of Januan.-, the great fleet lay quietly 
at its moorings. Many of the vessels were illuminated. From some 
came the strains of music, as the soldiers on deck joined in singing pa- 
triotic choruses, or songs of home. On others the regimental bands 
were pla\-ing. The lights were mirrored in the calm waters, and the 
gentle breeze carried the soldiers' music across the bay. The trappings 
of war were tliere. but the scene was one of peaceful merriment. Sud- 
denly a gun is heard booming out from the batterv* of the flag-ship. 
All eyes are turned that way. and a n^cket is seen to climb high into 
the heavens. It is the signal to weigh anchor and go out to sea. Then 
the tramp of men about the capstan, the rattle of the chain hawsers, the 
creaking of cordage, and the measured rhjthm of the sailors' " shant}' 
songs " are heard, and soon the wide harbor, which has been the scene 
of so much life and gayet>". is dark and deserted, and the vessels are 
out on the Atlantic, creeping slowly southward through an ugly sea- 
Two dax's later the first vessel reached Hatteras inlet. The others 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 2L5 

came flocking in by twos and threes until the whole fleet had reached the 
place of rendezvous. The ship " Pocahontas," with one hundred horses 
on board, had foundered during the voyage, and the propeller " City 
of New York," heavily laden with arms and ammunition, went ashore at 
the inlet and was a total loss. The rest, after a long delay to allow for 
dredging out the bar and lightening the ships, finally entered the more 
peaceful waters of Pamlico sound. But in the work of crossing the bar 
and preparing for the advance, the remainder of January passed away. 

Relieved from all uncertaint)' as to the destination of this invading 
force, the Confederates applied themselves to the task of strengthening 
their works on Roanoke Island. On either side of the island were 
narrow straits connecting Albemarle sound with Pamlico sound. That on 
the eastern side was called Roanoke sound, while the strait on the west 
bore the name of Croatan sound. The channel of the former was com- 
manded by formidable batteries erected by the Confederates, while the 
way through Croatan sound was blocked by a row of driven piles and a 
line of vessels sunk directly across the channel. Back of these was 
a fleet of puny, armed vessels, — a "mosquito fleet," as the Confederates 
themselves derisively termed it. On the island, the Confederates had five 
forts, of which Fort Bartow was at one end of the line of piles that 
blocked the Croatan channel ; at the other end was Fort Forrest, a small 
battery mounted on the deck of a canal-boat, which had been hauled 
ashore and banked up with sand. These two batteries were relied upon 
to prevent the passage of the Union gunboats. 

On the morning of February 7 the Union fleet got under weigh, 
and moved up the sound toward the Confederate stronghold. The gun- 
boats led. From the flag-ship of Commodore Goldsborough, who com- 
manded the naval forces, waved a row of signal-flags, which spelled out 
the words, — 



ON THIS DAY OUR COUNTRY EXPECTS 
EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY. 



216 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



Straight up to the line of pihng, within point-blank range of Forts 
Bartow and Bee, the gunboats steam. Their rapid and well-directed 
broadsides soon drive the little vessels of the mosquito fleet into the 
background. The fate of one of the Confederate craft was peculiar. 
"Toward four o'clock in the afternoon," writes a Confederate officer 
who was engaged in the battle, " a shot or shell struck the hurricane- 
deck of the ' Curlew ' in its descent, and went through her decks and 
bottom as though they were made of paper. Hunter put his vessel 
ashore immediately in front of F'ort Forrest, completely masking its guns, 
and we could not fire her for fear of burning up the battery, which, as 
I have said, was built upon an old canal-boat." Thus, by this fortunate 
shot, the Federals not only disabled one of the enemy's gunboats, but 
silenced a seven-gun battery as well. Their attention was now turned to 
Fort Bartow, and with such effect that the guns in that work were soon 
dismantled, its flag-staff shot away, its garrison driven out, and its walls 
of sand were fairly levelled by the bursting shells. 

Meantime the troops under command of General Burnside had 
followed in the wake of the gunboats and were seeking a landing-place. 
A negro slave, who had escaped from his owner and fled to the Federal 
camp, guided them to a little bay about the middle of the west side of 
the island, known as Ashby's harbor. Here, at four o'clock in the 
afternoon, they began to disembark, meeting at first with some resistance 
from a small force of Confederates hidden in the woods that bordered 
the shores of the bay. A little judicious shelling by the gunboats soon 
put the enemy to flight, and thereafter the landing of the troops was un- 
impeded. But even with the hostile riflemen out of the way, the task of 
landing the troops was difficult and wearisome. The transports had to 
anchor in the channel, while the soldiers were carried from them to the 
shore in flatboats and barges. But the bottom of the sound sloped so 
gently from the shore to the channel that the boatmen found their craft 
aground when still fifty yards from dry land. Then there was nothing 
for the soldiers to do but clamber overboard and wade the rest of the 
way. Had the bottom been firm, this would have been bearable enough; 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 217 

but often, where a boat of eight inches draught had grounded, a soldier 
would sink to his thighs in the soft ooze that had caught and held the 
heavy boat. Slowly the disembarkation progressed. By midnight 12,500 
men were ashore, drenched to the waist by the cold waters of the 
sound, and rapidly getting completely soaked by a chill, drizzling rain 
which began falling at sunset. When morning came, a more uncomforta- 
ble and bedraggled body of troops could hardly be imagined. 

But their enthusiasm is unquenched. Half-way up the island the 
Confederates have established a three-gun battery. A narrow strip of 
solid ground extends east and west from the flanks of the battery, and 
there the enemy has posted infantry supports to the number of 25,000. 
All the ground round about is a quagmire, save a narrow road or 
causeway which extends straight down the centre of a broad, treeless 
marsh to the breastworks of the battery. To attack this position the 
Federals moved out of their camp early on the morning of the 8th, 
The Confederates have the advantage of a strong position ; the Federals, 
the advantage of overpowering numbers. 

Burnside's troops are divided into three brigades. General Parker, 
with one brigade, advanced on the right of the open marsh which fronted 
the enemy's works, while General Reno did the same on the left. 
Though the ground over which these divisions had to advance was a 
veritable morass, the men sinking sometimes to their waists in the mud, 
they were to some degree protected by the heavy growth of trees and 
shrubbery that cloaked their movements. To General Foster's division 
fell the perilous duty of assaulting by the front and centre, where not 
even a thin screen of shrubbery was interposed between the assailants 
and the guns of the enemy. 

Slowly but doggedly through the mud and over the rotting trunks 
of fallen trees the Federals advanced. The enemy held his ground with 
tenacity, and despite the overwhelming numbers of his foes, acquitted 
himself with such courage that after tvvo hours of fighting the Federals 
found their ammunition giving out, and victory still as far from their 
grasp as ever. At such a moment a dashing charge invariabh' turns the 



218 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

scales of fortune to the side of the commander who orders it. As the 
victorv hung trembHng in the balance, there came up to General Foster 
Major Kimball, of the Hawkins Zouaves (Ninth Xew York), who offered 
to lead a charge up the narrow causeway, straight into the teeth of the 
battery. 

•' You are the man, the Ninth the regiment, and this the very 
moment,"" cried Foster eagerly. 

■• Zouaves, storm that battery I Forward ! " shouted Kimball, and 
in an instant the gayh" uniformed fellows, with their red fezzes, were 
running up the causewa\' shouting their battle-cry of " Zou I zou ! 
zou ! "' 

• Make way for the red caps I They are the boys I " cried the 
troops, who saw the column dashing forward. Colonel Hawkins, with 
two companies of his men. was leading a flank movement on the left. 
He heard the familiar cr\-. and. looking up, saw the rush of the red- 
capped legion. •' Look at the Ninth I " he shouted ; " Zouaves to their 
help I," and his two companies joined in tlie charge. 

It was enough. The Confederates did not wait for the clash of 
arms. One hasty volley, then, as the Zouaves showed no sign of 
wavering. the\- broke and fled. When the Zouaves, closely followed 
b}- regiments from Massachusetts and Connecticut, swarmed over the 
breastworks, there was no one left to oppose them. The knapsacks, 
cartridge-boxes, muskets, swords, and blankets strewn around told that 
the Confederates had been in haste to go. 

This ended the lighting on Roanoke Island. The Confederates were 
followed, pushed into corners, and forced to surrender. When night 
fell, two thousand Confederates were prisoners o( war. and forty guns 
had fallen into the hands of the victors. The navy followed up this 
success by pursuing and destroying the Confederate mosquito fleet ; 
and by February 13, Albemarle sound and the contiguous waters were 
under the control of the military- authorities of the United States. 

F""or a few weeks the victorious Federals rested upon their arms at 
Roanoke Island ; then dut\- called them still farther southward. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 219 



At the very southern end of Pamlico sound, where the long, narrow 
strip of sand that separates the tumultuous Atlantic from the tranquil 
inland sea ends in the sandy spit known as Cape Lookout, the noble 
harbor of Beaufort opens into the ocean. It had been a favorite port 
of entry for the fleet steamers that made a business of runnin'^'- the 
Federal blockade and supplying the beleaguered Confederacy with 
needed articles of commerce. The men-of-v/ar could not follow the 
blockade runners into the harbor because of the heavy guns of Fort 
Macon, which stood like a sentinel guarding the entrance to the bay. 
But the fort had been built with reference to an enemy coming by sea 
only. On its landward side it was far from formidable. The military 
authorities of the Union determined to send the troops from Roanoke 
Island down to Beaufort and take Fort Macon in the rear. 

But to get to Beaufort the invaders had first to dislodge the Con- 
federates from a commanding position they had taken at New Berne, 
on the Neuse river. It was on the nth of March that the troops 
left Roanoke Island upon this errand. Two days before, the fresh 
breeze blowing from the north had brought with it the thunder of 
distant cannon, and the soldiers wondered where the fighting was going 
on. It was the sound of the titanic conflict between the " Monitor" 
and " Merrimac " in Hampton Roads, eighty miles away. 

When the transports bearing the troops reached the landing-place 
chosen, a cold north-east wind was blowing, bringing with it occasional 
gusts of icy rain. Nevertheless, the men, eager for action, responded 
promptly to the order to land, climbing down over the sides of the 
vessels, and wading ashore through water that oftentirses came to 
their waists. Once ashore, they pushed forward along the banks of 
the river toward the city, eighteen miles above, while the gunboats kept 
pace with them in the stream. All day the weary march continued. 
Several lines of deserted earth-works were passed, but no resistance 
was met. When the advancing column went into camp at sunset, the 
main position of the Confederates was but a mile and a half further 
on, and all hands knew that the morrow would see serious fighting. 



220 BATTLE FIELDS OF oi. 

At davbreak the arni\- was in motion. The path was found to 
be blocked by a line of rifle-pits, redans, and breastworks two miles 
long, ending in a thirteen-gun batter>- on the rivers edge, called Fort 
Thompson. In three columns the assailants advanced. Generals Foster. 
Reno, and Parke commanded each a di\nsion. A dense fog for a time 
hung over the battlefield, but soon cleared away. The struggle was 
not of long duration. The battle on Roanoke Island had taught the 
blue-coats that redoubts could be stormed, and that there was less 
peril in rushing upon the enemy than in standing still under his fire. 
So. having numbers on their side, they swept the enemy aside, and 
were soon in possession of his works, while the Confederates retreated 
in good order through the town of Xew Berne, burning the bridges 
behind them. 

Xew Berne once taken, the rest of the Federal plan of campaign 
was easilv completed. From Beaufort the Confederates fled without 
striking a blow ; and when the long columns of blue-clad soldiers 
poured into the old-fashioned town, they found it tenanted only by 
negroes. 

At Fort Macon. General Burnside expected to encounter a des- 
perate resistance. The fort was strong, well garrisoned, and under the 
command of a nephew of Jefferson Davis, Colonel WTiite. who responded 
to Bumside's demand for immediate surrender with the defiant declara- 
tion that he would not \neld until he had eaten his last biscuit and 
killed his last horse. Thereupon Burnside made preparations for a siege. 
For nearly three weeks the work of planting siege-guns, building sand- 
bag batteries, and hemming in the beleaguered garrison with an iron 
circle went on. On the 25th of April the work was completed, the 
batteries opened fire, the Union gunboats steamed valiantly up and 
delivered their broadsides, and before night the dought>- colonel 
commanding the fort had surrendered, \\-ithout. so far as histor>- has 
recorded, having either eaten his last biscuit or slain his last horse. It is 
interesting to note that when Bumside's troops entered the fort they 
found that the Confederate flag that had waved throughout the bombard- 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



221 



ment was the Union flag ripped up and made over to suit the needs 
of the Confederacy. The red and white stripes had been ripped apart 
and then sewn together to form the broad bars of the Southern banner. 
The s u p e r f 1 u o u s 
stars had been cut 
out, and the holes 
thus made were left. 

Let us now turn 
our attention again 
to affairs in the 
West. 

Grant's victories 
at Fort Henry and 
Fort Donelson had 
driven the Confed- 
erates from Kentucky 
and from Central 
Tennessee. General 
Polk had been 
forced to abandon 
those works on the 
bluffs at Columbus, 
from which some 
months before he 
had watched Grant 
moving down the 
opposite bank of 
the great river, to 
fall upon the Con- 
federate camp at Belmont 




W&wMlair'tr^' «?• IsZ&.7iAJ^?70, 



But though forced from this position, he 
speedily discovered another point which, when fortified and put in pos- 
session of an armed force, would close the Mississippi river to the com- 
merce and the armies of the Union. This was at Island No. lO, one 



222 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

of the low-lying islands in the middle of the river; the tenth in order, 
numbering from Cairo southward. To-day the tawny flood of the Father 
of Waters sweeps unchecked over the spot where Island No. lo once 
stood with its batteries and its camps; but in 1862 the spot was 
famous all over the country, and people spoke of it as a veritable 
Sebastopol. Nature, rather than military art, had given this position its 
strength. Here the great- river makes one of its mighty compound 
curves, sweeping first to the southward, then straight north again for 
fifteen miles or more, then doubling again upon its course rushes with 
renewed speed, as though to regain the lost time, upon its serpentine 
way to the Gulf of Mexico. Just in the bend of the river, where 
the eddying flood checks its southward course and turns again to the 
north, stood Island No. 10. Both banks of the river were swampy, lined 
with huge trees, about the half-decaying roots of which the water 
stood deep and stagnant. At one point only was a little solid land, and 
there stood the little Missouri town of New Madrid. By land it was 
nearer the Union base at Cairo than was Island No. 10; but to go 
to New Madrid by water, the Confederate works on the island would 
have to be passed first. 

Island No. 10 was easily so fortified by the Confederates as to 
make it a most formidable spot. But to New Madrid both Con- 
federates and Federals speedily turned their attention, because they 
saw that it offered the Federals an opportunity to get in the rear of 
the works on the island. The Confederates, being first on the ground, 
set about the work of fortifying the town with earthworks on the 
landward side. Six gunboats came up the river from New Orleans, 
and were moored to the bank, where, as the river was high and the 
surrounding country flat, their guns commanded all the approaches to 
the village. Nine thousand men manned the Confederate works on the 
island and at New Madrid. On the island General Mackall was in 
command, — an officer who had signalized himself by issuing a procla- 
mation that was remarkable even in that day of bombastic and 
egotistic military proclamations. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 223 

" Soldiers," it read, " we arc strangers, commander and commanded, 
each to the other. Let me tell you who I am. I am a general 
made by Beauregard, — a general selected by Beauregard and Bragg 
for this command when they knew it was in peril." 

In peril General Mackall's command certainly was. On the 22d 
of February, 1862, an army left Cairo, was ferried across the turbid 
Mississippi, swollen by recent rains, disembarked on the Missouri 
shore, and turned towards New Madrid. In command was General 
Pope. He had several thousand men in his columns, and though 
many miles of miry road and pestilential swamp-land lay between him 
and his destination, he inspired his men with zeal and pluck, and 
led them boldly onward. The advance was slow and painful. " The 
men waded in mud, ate in it, slept in it, were surrounded by it as 
St. Helena is by the ocean," said a newspaper correspondent who 
accompanied the expedition. Five miles a day was considered good 
marching. It was not until the 3d of March that Pope found himself 
before the enemy's works, — two forts mounting twenty-one cannon, and 
connected by a long line of earthworks and abatis. 

Going into camp with his force. Pope sent back to Cairo for 
siege-guns. The ponderous cannon were mounted on huge trucks 
with broad, flat tires, and dragged along over the muddy roads by 
two companies of regular infantry. By the time they reached him, 
Pope had his army snugly entrenched before the enemy. More than 
that, he had planted a battery at Point Pleasant, ten miles down the 
river, to cut off the Confederates from their friends down stream. The 
Confederate gunboats had hotly contested this point with the invaders, 
but the blue-coats stuck to their picks and shovels, and soon had a 
sunken battery with supporting rifle-pits completed. Then they turned 
their guns on the enemy's boats, and the thunder of the cannonade 
reached the ears of Mackall on his island up the river, and gave him 
notice that he was hemmed in. 

On the evening of March 12, Pope's four siege-guns arrived. 
There was no rest for the weary soldiers that night. With picks and 



224 r.AlTLK FIELDS OF '6i. 

spades they were busy in throwing up breastworks before the Con- 
federate forts. All worked in silence, for only a few hundred yards 
awa}- were the Confederate pickets in complete ignorance of the work 
going on in their front. When morning dawned, the astonished garrison 
of Fort Thompson saw a long redoubt, of formidable proportions, that 
seemed to have grown up under the muzzles of their cannon in the 
night. From the fort and from the gunboats on the river the Con- 
federates opened fire. The Federals replied with spirit. All day long 
the cannon roared and the shot whistled through the air, and all day 
long the Federals, with parallels, traverses, and zigzag approaches, 
carried their line nearer and nearer to the enemy's works. When 
night fell, the Confederates at New Madrid were hemmed in between 
an overwhelming Union army, strongly entrenched, and the river. 
Without waiting for the next day to determine the outcome of the 
struggle, they abandoned their works, boarded their gunboats, and fled 
up stream to increase Mackall's force on Island No. lO. 

Not until after dawn the next morning, when the news was brought 
to him by two deserters, did Pope discover that he no longer had an 
enem\- in his front. But when the vanguard of his army marched into 
the dismantled forts and down to the almost deserted village on the 
river's bank. the_\- found signs in plent}' of the precipitate flight of the 
foe. Man\- bodies lay on the ground unburied, while a hundred new- 
made graves told of the havoc that had been done in the Confederate 
ranks. Food stood on the tables in the tents ; in some were lighted 
candles still burning. The eneni}- succeeded in carrying oft" his light 
cannon, but the heav\' guns were left behind spiked with rat-tail tiles. 
At one place in the fort was a gun sunk to its trunnions in the black 
mud. Mud was every\vhere. It had poured rain during the night, and 
the trenches and rifle-pits were half full of water. Both the escaping 
Confederates and the Union forces bivouacking in the woods outside had 
passed a sorry night. 

From the moment that the Confederates determined to abandon New 
Madrid, the fall of the stronghold on Island No. lo was assured. It 




Page .--s. - l>ATT 



I.K I'lKl.lJS Ol- ''II. 



ON PICKET. 



BATIXE FIELDS OF '6i. 227 

was cut off and hemmed in by the Federals. The guns in the captured 
forts, together with his siege-guns, Pope mounted in sunken batteries at 
the river's edge. Five Confederate gunboats strove to dislodge the gun- 
ners from this position ; but after a furious cannonade, in which one 
of the boats went to the bottom, the flotilla abandoned the attempt. 
Then the work of planting batteries went on, until Pope had the Mis- 
souri side fairly lined with breastworks and rifle-pits. 

Meantime Commodore Foote, who, since the attack upon Fort Don- 
elson, had been at Cairo repairing the damages which his gunboats had 
suffered in that memorable struggle, dropped down the river with a 
fleet of gunboats and mortar-boats, and began to bombard the island. 
The Confederate batteries replied with spirit. For two weeks the con- 
flict of great guns continued with varying activity. The thunders of the 
cannonade were heard over three States. The huge shells from the 
mortars fell upon the island, digging deep pits where they burst. The 
Confederate redoubt was cut and torn by the flying missiles, but the 
actual injury to the soldiers engaged was but slight. On April 5, 
General Beauregard telegraphed to Richmond : " The enemy has thrown 
three thousand shells and burned fifty tons of gunpowder without in- 
juring the effectiveness of our works, and killing but one of our men." 

Meantime the Yankee soldiers in camp below the island in the 
miasmatic marshes of New Madrid were growing impatient. 

"Well, what is the navy doing to-day?" was the question passed 
along the lines when the dull booming of the cannon told that the 
conflict had been renewed. 

"Oh, it's still bombarding the State of Tennessee at long range," 
was the impatient reply. 

The lads at New Madrid held the key to the situation, and they 
knew it. All they had to do was to rest patiently in their batteries, 
and see to it that no vessels passed bearing supplies to the Confederates 
up stream. Starvation in time would prove more effective than mortars 
and bomb-shells in subduing the garrison of Island No. 10. 

But Pope wished to do more than to drive the enem}' from the 



228 BA'rri.K kiklds of '6i. 

island ; he wished to capture them, bag and baggage. To do this, 
he had to cross the river ; and to make the crossing in the face of 
the enemy's batteries on the further shore, armed vessels were needed. 
"Cannot two of your vessels run the batteries?" he telegraphed to 
Foote. But the naval officer thought the project hopeless, and General 
Pope began to cast about in his mind for other means of crossing 
the great river that held him a prisoner. Floating batteries were 
planned, to be built of heavy barges, packed with cotton bales and 
sand-bags, and carrying three heavy guns and eighty sharp-shooters. 
But before these were finished, two occurrences put an end to the work 
upon them. 

From some acute observer came the suggestion to General Pope, 
that by following the line of Wilson's bayou, a canal might be cut 
from a point above Island No. lo, across the peninsula to New Madrid, 
and that the gunboats could thus escape the fire of the Confederate 
batteries. Seven cities, they say, dispute the honor of being the birth- 
place of Homer. The partisans of more than seven officers claim each 
for his friend the honor of having first suggested this canal. It cannot 
be stated with any certainty with whom the project originated. The 
execution of the work, however, was left to Col. J. W. Bissell, and 
right well he discharged his difficult task. 

Though a canal had to be cut, there was no digging to be done. 
All along the line, in the bayous and in the swamps, the water was 
standing deep enough to float Foote's heaviest gunboats. But the 
bayous were choked with driftwood and snags, and in the swamp the 
great forest trees stood so thick that a skiff could hardly navigate be- 
tween them. To cut away these trees was the chief work of the engineer- 
ing force. First the tops were cut off about eight feet above the water, 
and dragged away. Then a raft, bearing a huge saw swung upon a 
pivot, was brought up alongside the stump, and the trunk was sawed 
off four and a half feet below the surface of the water. It would seem 
that such work must have been tedious and almost unbearabh' slow ; 
but Colonel Bissell writes : " I think two and a half hours was the 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 229 

longest time ever expended upon any one stump, while about two 
minutes would dispose of some small ones when the saw was ready. 
It took eight days to cut the two miles." 

Twelve miles in all was the length of the canal, and by unre- 
mitting toil the soldiers completed the work on April 4, — just nineteen 
days after the work had been begun. They thus had a clear channel 
of four and a half feet in depth, out of range of the enemy's guns, 
and leading direct to the Union works at New Madrid. The day 
after its completion four boats steamed through it almost to New 
Madrid, but did not make their way out into the river because of 
something that happened to make the canal useless. 

In war, perseverance is a good thing, but pluck is a better. Per- 
severance had brought the canal to completion, but the pluck of a 
Yankee naval officer had demonstrated the fact that it was both safe 
and easy to take the gunboats right past the Confederate batteries, 
without condescending to the navigation of an ignoble ditch. When 
Pope first asked for gunboats, several captains volunteered to run the 
batteries, saying that if the enemy should attempt to capture their 
vessels they would set the torch to the magazines before they would 
allow their craft to fall into the hands of the enemy. But Foote 
refused to permit the attempt, declaring the risk too great. The 
importunity of Commander Walke, of the " Carondelet," at last per- 
suaded the commodore to yield so far as to authorize that officer 
to man his vessel with volunteers and attempt the perilous adventure. 

With a coal-barge lashed to either side, with her lights out, with 
chain cables coiled about the pilot-house and loose iron piled upon the 
decks to protect them from plunging shot, the "Carondelet" set forth. 
It was the night of the 4th of April. Dense banks of clouds hid the 
stars, and the boat could not be seen by the sharpest lookout as she 
sped down the river between the darkly wooded banks. But before she 
reached the island, a thunder-storm burst, and the bright flashes of 
lightning made all like day. "Almost every second," wrote a corre- 
spondent, " every brace, post, and outline could be seen with startling 



230 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



distinctness, enshrouded b}- a bluish-white glare of light, and then her 
form for the next minute would become merged in the intense darkness." 
But worse even than the lightning was a huge blaze of fire that burst 
from the smoke-stacks of the "Carondelet" just as she came abreast the 
batteries. The sleep}- sentries, who had not espied the vessel, rubbed 
their eyes and looked again. Another flash, and the alarm was given. 
The great guns roared from the batteries on both sides of the river, and 
rifles and muskets spat out their spiteful messages. But the " Caron- 
delet " minded the storm of bullets and cannon-balls no more than she 
had minded the pelting of the thunder-storm. On through it all she 
sped, past the great floating battery moored at the lower end of the 
island, where she was hit for the first time by a solid shot that lodged 
in one of the coal-barges ; this point passed, she was out of danger, and 
steamed quietly on to the levee at Xew ^Lidrid. where the troops turned 
out and gax'o three cheers in honor of the gunboat's great achievement. 
Three signal-guns gave notice to the eagerly listening blue-jackets above 
the island that the gauntlet had been safely run. Then all hands went 
below and spliced the main brace. 

This was the final blow to the hopes of the defenders of Island Xo. 
lo. The next da\- they began their preparations for escape. At night 
the\- began crossing to the main-land and pushing their way southward 
across the narrow peninsula. But they were too late. Another Federal 
gunboat had followed the " Carondelet." Pope's troops had been ferried 
across the river. The Confederate batteries at Tiptonville had been 
captured, and the fugitives from Island Xo. lO arrived at that little 
hamlet weary, wet. and half starved. onl\- to find their road lined with 
Union troops and themselves prisoners. It • was an ovenvhelming 
disaster. The island, the mainland batteries, the floating battery, one 
gunboat, and 7,000 men were captured by the victorious Federals. It 
was upon April S, 1862. that the surrender was completed. Island 
Xo. 10, with all its formidable natural and artificial defences, had delayed 
the southward march o\' the Laiion forces about five weeks. 

While the bellicrerents were thus measuring strength on the eastern 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 231 

borders of Missouri, the south-west corner of that State was the scene' 
of a decisive battle. In Arkansas, near the border Hne, were Confederate 
troops to the number of 12,000, in command of Generals Price and 
McCulloch, Pressing close upon them was General Curtis, with a much 
smaller body of Federals. Had Price and McCulloch been able to act 
in harmony, they could have fallen upon Curtis and swept him from their 
path. But dissension had arisen between these commanders. That 
which one advised, the other discouraged. Neither had authority to 
force the other to bend to his will, and as a result the army remained. 
When Jefferson Davis learned of this state of affairs, he sent Earl Van 
Dorn to take command of the army. Van Dorn was a cavalry captain 
of no little merit. To the Southern soldiers he was the beau ideal 
of a dashing cavalier. In all parts of the South his popularity was 
unbounded, and his arrival at the camp of Price and McCulloch was 
celebrated by a salute of forty guns, bonfires, and rejoicing of the 
soldiers. 

Van Dorn opened his campaign by fairly bombarding the surround- 
ing country with bombastic proclamations. " Beautiful maidens of 
Louisiana," he cried, " smile not upon the craven youth who may linger 
by your hearth when the rude blast of war is sounding in your ears ! " 
To his army he said, " Soldiers, behbld your leader ! He comes to show 
you the way to gtory and immortal renown. He comes to hurl back 
the despots at Washington, whose ignorance, licentiousness, and brutality 
are equalled only by their craven natures. They come to free your 
slaves, lay waste your plantations, burn your villages, and abuse your 
loving wives and beautiful daughters." This is hardly the language to be 
expected of a man of bravery. Van Dorn had been educated at West 
Point, and must have known that the foes with whom he had to deal 
possessed none of the black qualities with which he had invested them. 
Still, in justice to the Confederate commander, it must be said that he 
was as reckless of danger as he was reckless in his use of words. 

The spot at which Van Dorn's army was encamped was near the 
border of the Indian territory. Early in the war the Confederates had 



')Q9 BATTLE FIP:LDS OF '6i. 



po- 



made overtures to several of the Indian tribes for an alliance, in the 
expectation that the savage instincts of the red-skins would make them 
good fighters. Many of the tribes had promised their aid ; and Gen. 
Albert Pike, whose commanding proportions and great natural wit 
had given him great influence with the savages, had been put in 
command of the Indian legion. Pike now brought his half-trained bands 
to swell Van Dorn's army. 

On March 5, 1862, Van Dorn was at Fayetteviile. He says he had 
in his arnn^ 14,000 men. The official records put his force at 16,000. 
Before him was Curtis with 10,500. The Confederate leader was kept 
well informed of his adversary's strength and disposition of his forces. 
He knew that Sigel's division was at Bentonville, separated from Curtis 
b>- several miles, and that several regiments were out foraging, sus- 
pecting no danger. 

" I will make a forced march to Curtis's rear, cut ofl" his retreat, 
and destro)- his arm\'," was Van Dorn's determination. 

He was prompt in moving. In the midst of a driving storm of 
snow his men broke camp and started upon the long march. Though 
they had tift>' miles to go, Van Dorn was merciless in urging them 
on. It was essential to the success of his plan that the blow should 
be struck quickh", and against an unsuspecting enem\-. 

But in this the Confederate was doomed to disappointment. The 
country was full of Union men. and hardly had Van Dorn's column 
begun to move before farmers came pouring into Curtis's camp with 
the news. He divines the enemy's plan at once, and determines that 
he himself should choose the ground upon which to give battle to 
the advancing host. The road from Fayetteviile into Missouri, along 
which the Confederates were advancing, at one point crosses a little 
stream known as Sugar creek, and then passes over a slight elevation 
known as Pea Ridge. The ground thereabouts is rough, cut up with 
narrow valleys and heavily timbered ravines. This spot Curtis chose 
as his point of defence ; the more readily, because one of his divisions, 
that of General Carr, was alread\' on the ground. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 233 

Cavalry-men were hastily sent in all directions to call in the 
foraging parties, and to notify Sigel. Curtis himself galloped across 
the country to attend to the disposition of the forces. 

Sigel moved slowly. He had two hundred wagons, and they 
impeded his progress. He sent them ahead, and followed slowly with 
the main body of his division. Van Dorn learned of his plight, and 
instead of continuing his advance up the Fayetteville road, took all his 
cavalry and the main part of his army off to the westward to cut 
off Sigel at Bentonville. But the little band of Federals, though hemmed 
in by an overpowering force, fought with such bravery and determina- 
tion that they cut their way out of the trap, and reached the ren- 
dezvous at Pea Ridge in safety. " On the retreat from Bentonville to 
Sugar creek," said Sigel in general orders to his troops a week later, 
" a distance of ten miles, you cut your way through an enemy at 
least five times stronger than yourselves." 

By nightfall of the 6th, Curtis had most of his troops on the ground, 
and had formed his lines facing south, as the enemy was thought to be 
coming from that direction. But Van Dorn continued his flank move- 
ment all night, and when morning dawned was ready to attack from the 
north and west. The news of this flank movement was speedily brought 
to Curtis. All night he had been busily engaged in throwing up breast- 
works, felling trees, and masking batteries to block all approach to his 
camp from the south. Now he suddenly found that it was his rear that 
was threatened after all. But he showed no hesitation. Carr's division 
was pushed forward to Elkhorn Tavern. On his left was Davis, and still 
further to the left Sigel. The advance of the enemy was so rapid that 
Colonel Osterhaus, with two batteries and three infantry regiments, was 
ordered forward to detain them until Carr's troops had time to deploy. 
They were to throw caution to the wind and check the enemy at all 
hazards. Osterhaus did his work well. Though he found himself in the 
midst of the enemy's lines, he hotly contested every foot of ground. 
But his pluck was opposed by the enemy with equal daring and far 
greater numbers. Two of his cannon were captured, and he was about 



284 RAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



to be swept away in complete rout when Sigel and Davis came rushing 
to his rescue. Then the tight on the left grew fierce. Charge after 
charge swept over the field ; now the Federals and then the Confed- 
erates were in the ascendanc\-. Opposed to Davis, Sigel. and Osterhaus 
were McCulloch and Mcintosh. Pike tried to bring up his Indians 
to join the conflict, but a few shells from the Union batteries were 
thrown into their midst and the}- broke and ran in frantic terror. That 
was not their st>-le of warfare. Slowly the tide of battle turned in 
favor of the Federals. General McCuUoch was struck down by a 
bullet and died almost instantly. A few minutes afterwards Mcintosh 
suftered a mortal wound. Thus deprived of their commanders, the 
Confederates fell into confusion ; a glorious charge b\- the Eighteenth 
Indiana drove them in hopeless rout from the field and ended the battle 
on the left. 

Ovpr on tlie Union right, at Elkhorn Tavern, the fighting ^^^s 
harder. \'an Dorn himself was there, and inspired the troops of Price's 
division to fight with dogged determination. Yard by yard Carr's divis- 
ion was forced back. Against him were arrayed the strongest batteries, 
the most dashing regiments of the Confederate army in the south-west. 
He sent an aide to Curtis to tell o( his dangerous position, and begging 
for reenforcements. " Tell General Carr to hold his ground at any cost." 
replied Curtis, and sent his body-guard — a handful of cavalry — and a 
pitiful little mountain howitzer to his aid. 

Again Carr sent for help. By this time the conflict on the left was 
over, and Curtis said to the aide, '* Tell General Carr to persevere." and 
himself galloped over to Sigel to find a battery- which could be taken to 
Carr's assistance. A fresh battery* and a regiment were ordered forward, 
and in a few minutes Curtis himself was on his wa\- to the front with 
Asboth's division. As he approached the field of battle he met the 
Fourth Iowa, retiring in good order. 

"What does this mean.^ " asked Greneral Curtis. 

" Out of ammunition ; going to the rear for cartridges." responded 
the colonel commanding. 




I'AC.i, 235. — llATTLt lltLDS OK '61. 

RALLYING UPON THE COLORS. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 237 



"Then use your bayonets," said Curtis; and the regiment faced 
about and followed him back to the scene of battle. 

But it was by this time after five o'clock. Darkness set in, and 
gradually the firing ceased. The Federals had been forced back about 
a mile from their position of the morning, but to offset this they had 
won a decisive victory on their left. 

There was no rest for the weary soldiers under either flag that night. 
Van Dorn was massing his regiments about the Elkhorn Tavern, intend- 
ing to hurl them with resistless force upon Curtis's slender force on the 
morrow. Curtis was hurrying Carr and Davis and Sigel into line on 
the heights of Pea Ridge. Though the advantage of numbers still rested 
with the enemy, Curtis enjoyed the inestimable advantage of complete 
familiarity with the ground. He, therefore, so deployed his forces that, 
when morning dawned, he was ready for battle and confident of victory. 
The Confederates, on the contrary, showed no anxiety to reopen the 
conflict. It may have been that Van Dorn recognized the strength of 
the positions taken by the Federals. It is possible that he felt himself 
heavily handicapped by the loss of McCulloch and Mcintosh. At any 
rate, he was so slow in opening that Curtis himself, who twenty-four 
hours before would have been glad to see the enemy depart without 
firing a shot, boldly ordered Davis and Carr to begin the fight. 

Van Dorn contented himself with a defensive battle ; but in holding 
his ground without an attempt to advance, he permitted the Federals to 
bring up batteries and post them on the hills about him, until suddenly 
he found himself in the midst of a semicircle of hostile batteries, all 
pouring shot and shell down into his ranks. A terrific tempest of iron 
beat upon him. His batteries were silenced. The Union infantry 
pressed close upon his lines. There remained but one course open to 
him, — retreat. In a masterly manner he withdrew his forces from the 
field, leaving, indeed, many of his dead upon the bloody ground, but 
taking his wagons, his guns, and his men safely beyond any danger of 

safety. 

So ended on March 8 the battle of Pea Ridge. With the 



238 B.vrrLK fields of '6i. 

chances of \ictor)- at the outset \vholl\- in favor of the Confederates, it 
had ended in a complete victory for the Union forces. General Curtis 
had snatched victory from the ver\' jaws of defeat. Van Dorn's army 
fled southward, suffering sadly from desertion, breaking up into scattered 
commands, appearing never again as a powerful organization to threaten 
the peace of Missouri. More than thirteen hundred Federals had been 
killed or wounded, while the loss of the Confederates was still larger. 

Great bitterness was aroused in all parts of the North by the sen- 
sational stories told of the conduct of General Pike's Indians after the 
battle. They were depicted as murdering the Union wounded found 
upon the field and scalping the Union dead. It is only too true that 
some foundation existed for these reports. Some bodies were found 
mutilated after the barbarous manner of the Indians, but they were hap- 
pily but very few. And the fact that not the Union dead alone, but the 
Confederate dead likewise, suflfered in this way should tend to quiet the 
continually recurring charge that the Confederate officers acquiesced in 
the loathsome work of the savages. 



^5^^,f^ 




CHAPTER XI. 

THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. WHY THE BATTLE WAS FOUGHT THERE. LETHARGY OF 

grant's army. GENERAL JOHNSTON DETERMINES TO ATTACK. THE SURPRISE OF 

GENERAL PRENTISS. GRANT REACHES THE FIELD. THE HORNET's NEST. THE 

CONFEDERATES SUCCESSFUL. SECOND DAY AT SHILOH. THE FEDERALS VICTORIOUS. 




N 1862 there stood by the side of a country road in 
South-western Tennessee, near the border Hne of Missis- 
sippi and Alabama, a little log meeting-house which bore 
the name of Shiloh. Perhaps a scant hundred of the 
farmers living in the sparsely settled country thereabouts knew its 
name. But one day chance, as some would say, or infallible military 
instinct, as others declare, led two hostile armies to that lonely spot. 
They met, clashed, and for two days grappled in war's deadly struggle, 
and ever since the name of Shiloh has been familiar to every 
American and to every student of military history, whatever may be 
his nationality. 

Volumes have been written about the battle of Shiloh. The plans 
of the hostile generals, the success or failure of their tactical ma- 

239 



240 RATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

na?iivrcs. and the result of the battle have all been made matters of 
controversy. But to us, caring^ nothin^^ for tactics, the plain story of 
the battle will be an easy one, and, unblinded by partisanship, its result 
can hardly be recjarded as indecisive. 

First, then, how came a c^reat battle to be fou£:[ht in this se- 
cluded spot, seemingly the last that should resound with the clash 
of arms ? 

A story in great vogue among people who ascribe to military 
commanders superhuman prescience, and regard war as a game in 
which the motions of the belligerents are as rigidly defined as the 
moves of the pieces in a game of chess, describes Gen. Albert Sydney 
Johnston as sitting in his tent at Bowling Green in 1S62. and pointing 
out Shiloh church upon a map spread before him by the Confederate 
engineers, saying as he did so. — 

•' Here the great battle of the South-west will be fought." 

But allowing General Johnston what he actually possessed. — military 
genius in its highest form. — we must still express some disbelief in 
the truth of this story. 

Chance, indeed, alone dictated the battle at Shiloh. But a glance 
at the map and a consideration of the disposition of the Union and 
Confederate forces in ^larch. 1862. will show that it was inevitable 
that somewhere in that neighborhood a battle should be fought. 

We have alreadx- remarked that the lines upon which the cam- 
paigns of the Civil War were fought were determined mainly by rivers 
and railroads. Both had to do with bringing on the battle of Shiloh. 
At the village of Corinth, in the north-eastern part of Mississippi, two 
railroads cross. New Orleans and Mobile on the south. Memphis on 
the west. Montgomery, Savannah, and even Charleston and Richmond 
on the east, were all in direct communication with this point. Thither 
Albert Sydney Johnston had gone when he abandoned Bowling Green 
after Grant's capture of Fort Henry. The few Confederates who 
escaped from Fort Donelson made their way there. Beauregard, after 
leaving Mackall the hopeless task of defending Island No. 10, turned 



BATFLR FIELDS OF '6i. 241 



his steps there likewise. General Polk, who had been driven from 
Columbus, and Van Dorn, fresh from the bloody field of Pea Ridge, 
came with troops to swell Johnston's army. Braxton Bragg came from 
Mobile with ten thousand men. Even New Orleans, that devoted city 
that time and time again had given the flower of its youth to swell 
the Southern armies, until it seemed as though her streets were 
emptied, yet found five thousand men to send to the well-beloved 
leader, Albert Sydney Johnston, at Shiloh. 

And so by gathering from Missouri, Louisiana, Arkansas, and 
Alabama, Johnston succeeded in concentrating at Corinth, on the ist 
of April, an army of 50,000 men. of whom 40,000 were "effectives." 
Where were the Federals? 

After the fall of Fort Donelson, a lethargy seemed to fall upon 
Grant's army. A prompt movement southward by the Tennessee river 
would have taken the Union army into Mississippi and Alabama 
almost without striking a blow. There was no enemy to oppose them. 
Albert Sydney Johnston would have had no time to have gathered 
his army. Corinth would have fallen. The very existence of the Con- 
federacy would have been jeopardized. 

But for some reason sluggishness ruled in the Union ranks. In 
Missouri and along the Mississippi there was no dearth of energy, 
but Grant's project of piercing the centre of the Confederate line 

languished. 

Doubtless heavy rains, swollen rivers, and impassable roads had 
somewhat to do with it. But jealousy and dissension among officers 
had more. Halleck was in command in the West. He weakly allowed 
his suspicions to be aroused by an anonymous letter levelled against 
General Grant. A treacherous army-telegraph operator, who afterwards 
deserted to the enemy, suppressed Grant's replies to Halleck's messages 
of inquiry and direction. Suddenly Grant was deposed from command, 
and virtually placed under arrest, remaining thus idle a week. Then 
the truth of the whole matter came out, and he was released. But 
valuable time had been lost. Before his arrest Grant had planned a 



242 BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

movement against Corinth, and immediately upon being restored to 
his command he began the work of carrying out his design. 

Under Grant's immediate command, at Fort Henry and Fort 
Donelson, were about 30.000 men. General Buell had 37.000 men at 
Nashville. To effect a junction between these armies and. with the 
combined force, to crush Johnston's army, was Grant's task. The 
meeting-point was chosen largely by accident. After the fall of Fort 
Henry, two gunboats had steamed up the Tennessee river, reconnoitring. 
At one point they were fired upon by a Confederate battery hidden in 
the bushes on the bank. A few rounds from the steamers' guns 
silenced the battery, and a landing-party was sent ashore to spy out 
the land. They found a level plateau, high above the river and well 
wooded. The name of the place was Pittsburg Landing. This spot, 
thus brought to the knowledge of the Union forces, was made the 
place of disembarkation of the Federal arm}- when it moved up the 
river on the wa}' to Corinth. 

The advance of the army -was begun while the trouble between 
Grant and Halleck was at its height. For the time, Grant was not 
in command of the army, and in his place was Gen. C. F. Smith, 
whom we have seen leading the charge through the abatis at Fort 
Donelson. It was early in March that Smith's command embarked 
upon a fleet of sixty-nine transports, and with gunboats at the head 
of the procession moved up the noble river. 

" It is difficult to conceive anything more orderly and beautiful," 
wrote General Wallace, " than the movement of this army up the rive?. 
The transports of each division were assembled together in the order 
of march. At a signal, they put out in line, loaded to their utmost 
capacity with soldiers and materials. Cannon fired, regiments cheered, 
bands played. Looking up the river after the boats had, one by one, 
taken their places, a great, dense column of smoke, extending as far as 
the eye could reach, marked the sinuosities of the stream and hung 
in the air like a pall. It was indeed a sight never to be forgotten." 

A part of the troops were disembarked at Savannah, on the east 



battlp: fip:li)s of '6i. 243 

bank of the river; one division at Crump's Landing, four miles above, 
and on the west side ; and the remainder at Pittsburg Landing, five 
miles above Crump's, and about twenty-three miles from Corinth. Such 
was the disposition of the army when Grant was restored to the 
command. 

His first act was to unite the army thus scattered. Division com- 
manders were ordered to take their commands to Pittsburg Landing 
and there go into camp. As the regiments poured in, the camp 
began to stretch out far into the interior, and up and down the river's 
bank. Sherman's division was farthest from the river, and grouped 
its tents about Shiloh church. On Sherman's left was Prentiss ; directly 
in his rear was McClernand. Hurlbut and W. H. L. Wallace were 
encamped on the river's bank at Pittsburg Landing, while Lew Wallace 
was at Crump's, and Nelson at Savannah. 

Though General Grant had succeeded in getting his troops fairly 
concentrated, he neglected the precaution of entrenching them. A year 
later an army hardly rested an hour in the vicinity of an enemy 
without throwing up breastworks. But Grant erred on the side of 
over-confidence. He had encountered so sluggish a foe at Fort 
Donelson that he little expected the enemy to leave his snug earth- 
works at Corinth and attack the Federal host resting at Pittsburg 
Landing. 

But Grant had now to do with generals of a different calibre from 
those whose supineness gave him the victory at Fort Donelson. Albert 
Sydney Johnston, the pride of the infant Confederacy ; Beauregard, 
trgjned in the science of warfare ; Hardee, the tactician ; Polk, the 
fighting priest, — all these, and a host of lesser military leaders, were 
in the camp of the Confederates at Corinth. Moreover, in his office in 
Richmond, that noblest of Southern soldiers, Robert E. Lee, then known 
only as Davis's military adviser, was observing with anxious care the 
situation in Tennessee. The telegraph brought him full reports of the 
progress of the armies. He saw, as in a moving panorama, Grant's 
army moving up the river, Buell's army marching overland from Nash- 



244 BATTLE FIELDS OF '61. 

ville to join it, and Johnston's army, greater than either of these, but 
smaller than the two together, quiet in its trenches at Corinth. " I 
need not urge you, when your arm}- is united," he wrote to Johnston, 
" to deal a blow at the enemy in your front, if possible, before his 
rear gets up from Nashville. You have him divided, and keep him 
so if you can." 

Lee's reminder was hardly necessary. Johnston had the situation 
well in hand. But as every day brought reenforcements to his camp, 
he determined to wait until the last moment possible before making 
the attack. Meanwhile his scouts kept him well informed of Buell's 
progress from Nashville. 

Late on the night of the 2d of April, there came to General Johnston 
a telegram from General Cheatham, far away on the Confederate left 
flank, saying that a Federal division under Gen. Lew Wallace had been 
manoeuvring in his vicinity all day. The telegram had been given to 
Beauregard, who forwarded it with the endorsement, " Now is the time 
to advance on Pittsburg Landing." With the telegram in his hand, John- 
ston sought Bragg's quarters. That officer was found in bed, but listened 
to the news, saw at once that if Lew Wallace was in the place reported 
the Union army was dismembered, and added his recommendation to 
that of Beauregard. Johnston had been in doubt, but his hesitation now 
vanished. All that night his adjutant-general was busy issuing orders 
for the advance, which was to begin the next morning at six. The 
men were each to be provided with three days' cooked rations and 
one hundred rounds of ammunition. 

Daybreak brought excitement and activity to the great camp at 
Corinth. The soldiers were busy striking their tents, filling their haver- 
sacks, and making ready for the march. Statt" officers galloped to and 
fro bearing orders. The roads were blocked with trains of wagons 
and field batteries. Regiments ready to move stood in the fields. The 
morning passed away rapidly. Somewhere there was a flaw in the 
machinery of the army. The advance which was to have begun at six 
o'clock had not vet started at noon. Down the roads and across the 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 245 

fields tear the aides, seeking the trouble. It is found in Polk's corps. 
At last all is set right and the advance begins. 

The first division is in the van. Its commander, Hardee, is a tried 
soldier, a graduate of West Point, a veteran of the Mexican War, and 
the compiler of the system of tactics by which both armies were 
manoeuvred. General Bragg, another West Pointer, followed ; then came 
Polk, and finally the reserves under Breckinridge. The plan had been 
to move at six o'clock on the morning of Thursday, April 2, and by 
Friday night to have secured a position so close to the Union lines 
that the assault might be made Saturday morning. But the delay in 
starting made the first day's advance slight, and a heavy rain on Friday 
so choked the roads with mud, that when night fell the Confederates 
were too far from the Federals to admit the possibility of an attack 
on the morrow. The advance was, therefore, continued until Saturday 
afternoon, when the van of the Confederate army was within two miles 
of the unsuspecting Federals. 

That night the Confederate generals assembled in council of war 
about the camp-fire. Beauregard urged the abandonment of the attack. 
He declared that the Federals could not fail to have been put on 
their guard by the long delay. Johnston was determined to carry out 
the original plan. He felt sure that the enemy was still ignorant of 
their presence. A young Union officer had been captured during the 
day, and had exclaimed, as he saw the roads crowded with soldiers 
and .batteries, " Why, this means a battle ! They don't expect anything 
like this back yonder." This evidence that the Federals were still 
ignorant of his approach, coupled with his disinclination to abandon a 
military movement already begun, led him to end the conference by 
saying quietly, — 

" Gentlemen, we shall attack at daylight to-morrow morning. I 
would fight them if they were a million." 

The officers parted, but not to sleep. All night each labored, 
making the dispositions of his troops, watching for signs of activity in 
the enemy's camp, and making ready for the conflict of the morrow. 



246 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

Shortly before dawn they assembled again about the camp-fire before 
the tent of the commander-in-chief. Again they discussed the situation. 
Suddenly a sputter of musketry along the front indicated that the 
skirmishers had aroused the enemy. 

" The battle has opened, gentlemen," said Johnston ; " it is too 
late now to change our dispositions." 

Then, as he swung himself to his saddle, he said, " To-night we will 
water our horses in the Tennessee river." 

" And sleep in the tents of the enemy," added Beauregard, who felt 
all the enthusiasm of the soldier tingling in his veins, as the sound of 
the battle, against which he had advised, met his ears. It was then 
fourteen minutes past five. 

For an hour the fire of the skirmishers continued. Strange to say, 
the Union troops did not take the alarm. The idea that they were on 
the verge of a serious conflict seems not to have occurred to them. 
The L^nion troops who had encountered the Confederate advance were 
three companies of Missourians under Colonel Moore, who had been 
sent forward to reconnoitre. Instead of firing and falling back to give 
the alarm, they held their ground stubbornly, while the Confederates 
were massing their regiments to swoop down upon the camp of General 
Prentiss, in which the men were quietly breakfasting. Their line of 
battle once formed, the Confederates did not dally long with the handful 
of Missourians. A rush, and the way was clear before them. The sound 
of the fierce " rebel yell " and the din of cannon and musketn,' then 
told the men in Prentiss's camp that they were in for a fight. But 
before they could get in line, before they could even grasp their 
weapons, Hardees troops swarmed down upon them, fighting with such 
as were armed, and ordering the unarmed to surrender. So complete 
was the surprise, that many of the Federals were captured in their tents ; 
some outside their tents, but in the raiment of night-time ; others seated 
about the benches on which breakfast was being ser\'ed. The few who 
escaped capture fled in confusion. The victors should have pressed on 
in hot pursuit, but instead wasted time in plundering the captured tents. 




Page 247. — Battll 1 itLUb oi- 'm. 



THE SURPRISE AT SHILOH. 



baitlp: fields of '6t. 249 

in cheering and rejoicing over a victory which they thought already 
complete. 

But the surprise of General Prentiss and his command was but the 
beginning of the struggle. The Union line was re-formed. Sherman and 
McClernand, shoulder to shoulder, held back the enemy's advance until 
the divisions of W. H. L. Wallace and Hurlbut could be brought into 
action. Sherman was ever in the thickest of the fray. Several horses 
were shot under him. Twice was he wounded, once in the hand and 
once in the shoulder. His narrowest escape was when a musket-ball 
passed through his hat. 

General Grant, throughout all this early morning fighting, was far 
from the field of battle. Buell was hourly expected at Savannah, ten 
miles down the river, and Grant had gone thither to meet him. In the 
morning he heard the sound of battle up the river, and took a steamer 
to hasten to the scene. On the way he stopped at Crump's Landing, 
where Lew Wallace was stationed with seven thousand men. Wallace 
himself came down to the Landing. 

" Get your troops in line, General," said Grant, " and be ready to 
move to the front." 

" I am ready, and await only the word of command," was Wallace's 
reply. 

Grant continued his Way up the river. He gave Wallace no order 
to move, because he then feared that Crump's Landing was to be the 
real point of the enemy's attack, while the assault on Pittsburg Landing 
was but a feint. But when he reached the battle-field, saw the hordes 
of stragglers, and the long trains of wounded men being brought to the 
rear, and heard the terrific din of the contest in the front, he perceived 
that the battle was to be fought there, and sent a hasty message to 
Wallace to come up by the shortest road. 

Meantime, how goes the battle? 

The field is irregular, cut up by deep ravines, steep hills, and 
dense patches of standing timber. On such a battle-field no exact 
alignment can be maintained. The battle seems rather to have been 



250 



BAITLE FIKLDS OF '6i. 



a scries of attacks by detached coniniands, than an advance of a line 
of battle. 



B-\TT1.F. OF 

SHILOH 

Phti I. 



1st, IHxsitiou (.Morningi 6th April 
Ox^tJenue — — — 





Shennan hnds himself bearing the bnint of battle. The division of 
Hardee, which first attacked him, has been reenforced by Bragg. Sher- 
man finds himself outflanked. BetAveen his ranks aiid those of Prentiss 
there is a gap into which the Confederates are pressing. They roll him 



BAITLK FIELDS OF '6i. 



251 



back, almost surrounding him. Although his men fight desperately, and 
Sherman himself enters into the thick of the fray, leading a charge here, 
inspiring his men to make a dogged resistance there, the enemy is too 
much for him, and he soon finds his command shattered by the con- 
tinual hammering of the foe. But the spirit of the commander has ani- 
mated the men. They do not fly from the field of battle, but by squads 
and companies fall in line with McClernand's troops and continue the 
fight. Between Sherman and McClernand there has been a coolness 
for some time, but now, in the hour of peril, all personal feelings are 
forgotten. Side by side the two fought for their common cause, and 
it is even said that McClernand, recognizing the superior military 
genius of his colleague, surrendered to him the direction of the troops 
engaged. 

Meantime General Grant has surveyed the field from all points. 
He finds his troops outnumbered, outflanked on the left, and the line 
pierced at, at least, one point. He finds, moreover, that the confusion 
into which his troops had fallen, and the ruggedness of the land, make 
a supervision of the whole battle impossible. Therefore he contents 
himself with galloping from point to point, and urging the troops to 
make a stubborn resistance to the Confederate advance. Had the battle 
been begun a day earlier Grant would have been tortured by apprehen- 
sions of a crushing defeat; but he knows that Bucll is already at Savan- 
nah, that Nelson's division had already arrived at that point, and that 
couriers had been sent to hasten the march of other divisions of Buell's 
army. With reenforcements so close at hand. Grant determines that his 
sole task is to hold the position at Pittsburg Landing until night; the 
attack will then cease, and before the rising of the morrow's sun he 
will have a fresh army with which to withstand the onset of the foe. 
Shortly after noon he went down to the landing-place to meet Buell, 
who had come from Savannah on a steamer. The low lands along the 
river's bank were crowded with stragglers from the Federal lines, who 
were huddled together under the bluffs in abject terror. Few had 
weapons. Nearly all had thrown aside their muskets, knapsacks, even 



252 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



their coats, in order that their flight might be unimpeded. Some He on 
the ground in complete exhaustion. Many, with shamefaced air, are 
steahng away down the river towards Crump's Landing. Officers are 
there in plenty. Courage does not always go with a pair of shoulder- 
straps. Indeed, tAvo regiments were led out of action b}' their 
colonels at the sound of the very first gun. Grant and Buell stood 
together for a moment, looking upon the scene. " At the top of the 
bluff," writes the latter ofiicer, " all was confusion. Men, mounted and 
on foot, and wagons with their teams and excited drivers, all struggling 
to force their wa}' closer to the river, were mixed up in apparently 
inextricable confusion with a battery of artillery, which was standing 
in park without men or horses to man or move it." Out of all this 
confusion Buell brought something like order, b\' having the teams, 
wagons, and the deserted batter)^ taken off to a neighboring hillside, 
and there disposed in proper order. The deserted battery proved 
afterwards to be an efficient aid to beating back the last assault of 
the enemy. 

It is now two o'clock in the afternoon. Let us see how the battle 
is going, and what are the positions held by the Union troops. 

Sherman and McClernand hold the extreme right of the Union line. 
Before the constant pressure of Hardee and Polk, this flank of the Federal 
army had been forced back, little by little, until at this hour it was a mile 
or more from the position about Shiloh church, which it had held in 
the morning. Yet another half-mile it fell back before the sun went 
down upon that bloody field. 

Next in order, proceeding toward the left of the Union line, were 
Prentiss and W. H. L. Wallace. The}' had taken up a strong position 
in a dense thicket on the crest of a hill. Logs and brush had been 
hastily piled up, and these extemporized defences, together with the con- 
formation of the ground, made the position almost impregnable. Besides 
being a spot well fitted for defence, it was the key to the Federal 
position. 

" Hold this position,'" Grant had said, when he rode by on his 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 253 

reconnoitring tour of the lines ; and the position was held long enough 
to save the Federal army from annihilation. 

In the formation of the Confederate line of battle, the divisions of 
Bragg and Hardee were arrayed against the commanding position held 
by Prentiss and W. H. L. Wallace. With complete confidence a charge 
was ordered. Bragg watched the line ascend the hill, falter a moment, 
as a volley of musketry flashed from the thicket at the crest, and then 
fall back in retreat. Another charge was ordered ; the same result 
followed. 

" It's a regular hornets' nest," said one of the baffled gray-coats. 

Let an officer who fought on that bloody slope tell of Bragg's de- 
termination to drive the hornets from their nest. Writes Colonel Lock- 
ett, of the Confederate army : — 

" I witnessed the various bloody and unsuccessful attacks upon the 
' Hornets' Nest.' During one of the dreadful repulses of our forces. 
General Bragg directed me to ride forward to the central regiment of a 
brigade of troops that was recoiling across an open field, to take its 
colors and carry them forward. ' Our flag must not go back again,' 
he said. Obeying the order, I dashed through the line of battle, seized 
the colors from the color-bearer, and said to him, ' General Bragg says 
these colors must not go to the rear.' While I was talking to him, the 
color-sergeant was shot down. A moment or two afterwards I was al- 
most alone on horseback in the open field between the two lines of 
battle. An officer came up to me with a bullet-hole in each cheek, the 
blood streaming from his mouth, and asked, ' What are you doing with 
my colors, sir?' — 'I am obeying General Bragg's orders to hold them 
where they are,' was my reply. ' Let me have them,' he said ; ' if any 
man but my color-bearer carries these colors, I am the man. Tell 
General Bragg I will see that these colors are in the right place. But he 
must attack this position in flank ; we can never carry it alone from the 
front.' " 

Soon after this the attack of the Confederates upon the Union 
position became less vigorous, and for a time ceased altogether. The 



254 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

Federals thought their assailants disheartened b}- the desperation of 
their defence, and began to have hopes of holding their position. But 
a far different reason had for the time dampened the ardor of the 
assailants. 

On the left of Prentiss and Wallace was Hurlbut's brigade. It occu- 
pied a hillside very like that which had won from the gray-coats the 
sobriquet of the " Hornets' Nest," and had been the objective point of 
several fierce charges by the division of General Breckinridge. As these 
charges had been successfully withstood, and the assailants repulsed with 
great slaughter, General Albert Sydney Johnston had gone himself to 
the scene. 

" They are offering stubborn resistance here," he said to one of his 
staff; " I shall have to put the bayonet to them." 

Then, bareheaded, he rode slowly along the scarred and bleeding 
line. 

" Men, they are stubborn ! We must use the bayonet ! " he said ; 
and as he reached the centre of the line of soldiers standing eagerly 
waiting his words, he cried, " I will lead }'Ou ! " and wheeling his horse 
to the front moved toward the foe. 

Men's hearts leaped in their breasts. It was an act so simple, and 
yet so soldierly, that it would have made the veriest coward a hero. 
The general who, at that time, even more than Robert E. Lee, was 
beloved by the people of the South, had discarded the privileges of his 
rank, and offered his life like a simple lieutenant to lead a forlorn hope. 
With a mighty cheer the men of Stratham's and Bowen's brigades fol- 
lowed in his footsteps. 

L^p the hill pressed the soldiers of the South, never flinching. 
Their leader rode ahead through the storm of flying missiles, stern and 
unwavering in his course. The crest is gained, and, with a ringing 
shout, the sorely shattered line sweeps over it. It is a victory; but 
in the moment of triumph their rejoicing is turned to sorrow. The 
Federals have retreated slowly, firing as they go. A minie-ball strikes 
General Johnston in the leg. With iron will he sits his horse, giving 




Page 255. — Battli; fields of '61. 



CHARGING THE HORNETS' NEST. 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 257 

orders to those about him. One of his ofificers notices his unearthly- 
pallor. "General, are you wounded?" he asks. 

" Yes, and I fear very seriously," is the response, spoken slowly 
and with difficulty. 

They lead him to a mossy bank near by, and examine his wound. 
An artery has been cut, and the blood comes in spurts. Had a surgeon 
been near at hand the wound might have been healed ; but the gen- 
eral had sent away his private surgeon to attend some wounded pris- 
oners ; and so his friends and colleagues stood helplessly at his side 
until the brave spirit of the soldier took its departure. 

General Johnston's death occurred at the very moment when victory 
seemed most certain for the Confederates. He had driven Hurlbut 
from his coign of vantage, and opened a way for Bragg to attack 
the " Hornets' Nest " by the flank. These positions carried, it needed 
only unflinching determination on the part of the Confederate com- 
mander to force Grant to surrender. But with Johnston's fall Beaure- 
gard became the general-in-chief, and at a critical moment he threw 
away all that Johnston had won. 

For a time after the fall of the leader the Confederate attack was 
maintained with spirit. The news was sent to the commanders of 
divisions, but carefully concealed from the rank and file. The advance 
of the Confederates was still unchecked. 

After a short delay Bragg availed himself of the opportunity to 
attack the "Hornets' Nest" by the flank. The movement was attended 
with complete success. Generals Wallace and Prentiss showed them- 
selves worthy of the trust reposed in them by Grant, and fought stub- 
bornly until the former was shot down with a mortal wound, and the 
latter, with three thousand men, was surrounded and captured by an 
overwhelming force of Confederates. But they had for over four hours 
held Bragg in check, and this delay proved the salvation of the 
Federal army. 

Four o'clock. The Union lines are broken everywhere. The Con- 
federate right has reached the Tennessee river, half a mile above 



2-58 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

Pittsburg Landing. The Confederate left nearly approaches Snake creek. 
The Federals are in a trap, crowded into a triangle, of which one side 
is the rolling Tennessee ; a second. Snake creek, swollen by recent 
rains ; and the third, the impenetrable lines of the enemy. The Con- 
federates feel that the victor)- is won. But now comes Beauregard's 
blunder. 

From his headquarters, in the rear of his army, he sends out to 
the division commanders an order to discontinue the attack. An aide, 
bearing the order, comes to Bragg, who is enthusiastically leading the 
advance of the Confederate right down the Tennessee river towards 
Pittsburg Landing. Bragg sees victor}- in his very grasp. To his men 
he says. " One more charge, my men. and we shall capture them all." 

At this moment the aide appears and says. " General Beauregard 
directs that the pursuit be stopped ; the victor}- is sufficiently com- 
plete ; it is needless to expose our men to the fire of the gunboats." 

"M}- God I Was a victor}- ever sufficiently complete? " cries Bragg; 
then asks the aide if the order had been given to an}- other com- 
mander. 

" Yes. sir. to General Polk on your left. He is already obe}-- 
ing it." 

' Then it is too late." said Bragg sadl\-. • Had the order come to 
me first. I should not have obeyed it. Xow the battle is lost." 

But though some one had blundered, the order was obe}-ed. The 
sound of the firing gradualh- died away. The Confederates lay down 
to rest literally in the camps of the Federals, and had it not been 
for the early discontinuance of the battle they would, in all prob- 
abilit}-. have fulfilled that other prediction of the night before, and 
watered their horses in the Tennessee river ; for when the fatal order 
came to Bragg, there was but one Federal position remaining to be 
taken, and that w-as not of sufficient strength to long detain an army 
flushed with victor}-. 

Xight fell. There was rest for neither army. The Confederates 
were consolidating shattered commands, and preparing for an attack on 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 259 

the morrow. The two Federal gunboats in the river harassed Bragg's 
command by throwing shells every minute into the forests in which 
it was bivouacked. 

Near Shiloh church, two Confederate officers had a tent which the 
Federal prisoner, General Prentiss, shared with them. All chatted freely 
of the day's results and the probabilities of the morrow. " You gentle- 
men had your way to-day," said Prentiss good-humoredly, " but it will 
be very different to-morrow. You'll see ! Buell will effect a junction 
with Grant to-night, and we'll turn the tables on you in the morning." 

Prentiss was right. Even as he spoke the Federals were being re- 
enforced by fresh troops. Nelson's division of Buell's command arrived 
at the Landing about dusk. Cullenden's and McCook's divisions of the 
same command arrived at daybreak. 

Another important reenforcement received by Grant on Sunday 
night was Lew Wallace's division of seven thousand men. Early in 
the day Grant had sent for Wallace to come with all speed to the 
scene of action. Two roads lay open for Wallace's command to advance 
by. One led straight from his camp to Shiloh church, where Sher- 
man's division was stationed ; the other followed the course of the 
river and led to Pittsburg Landing. In the absence of orders, Wallace 
chose the first. Had he followed it to its end he would have reached 
Shiloh church to have found Sherman beaten back for over a mile, and 
himself in the rear of the enemy. It is by no means certain that 
the appearance of Wallace with so heavy a body of fresh troops in 
their rear might not have thrown the Confederates into a panic. How- 
ever, this is mere conjecture, for Grant, becoming uneasy at the non- 
appearance of Wallace by the river road, sent mounted aides to scour 
the country in search of him. They soon caught up with his slow- 
moving column of infantry, and directed him to countermarch and 
bring his command to the Landing. This he did, but arrived too late 
to take part in the battle of the first day. 

All night the rain fell in copious showers. At dawn the battle 
recommenced, but this time the attack was made b}' the Federals. Far 



260 BATTLE P^IELDS OF '6i. 



back in the Confederate lines, General Prentiss sat up as he heard the 
field artillery begin its chorus, and said to his captors, " Ah ! Didn't 
I tell you so ! There is Buell." 

The story of the second day at Shiloh is easily told. Grant had 
at least 25,000 fresh troops. The Confederates were still bleeding with 
the wounds of the day before, dejected by the loss of their general, 
and disheartened by the knowledge that their foe had been overwhelm- 
ingly reenforced. Though they met the attack with spirit, there could 
be but one issue to so unequal a struggle. All the morning with 
unquestionable gallantry the gray-clad ranks fought against fate ; but at 
noon Beauregard yielded to the inevitable, and the retreat to Corinth 
began. It was a long and weary tramp for the dispirited soldiers, who 
felt that they had been fairly cozened out of victory by the blunder 
of a commander. Over the muddy roads, with heavy hearts, they 
plodded, while for a time the Federal artillery thundered in their rear. 
For a mile beyond Shiloh church the Federal pursuit was kept up ; 
then having regained all the positions from which he had been driven 
the day before, Grant ordered the pursuit abandoned. The Confederate 
column continued its march until it was safe within the earthworks 
at Corinth. 

The two days of fighting had cost both armies dear. To man}' a 
home. North and South, did the news of Shiloh's bloody field bring 
sorrow. Full 1,700 of Grant's soldiers laid down their lives. Of the 
wounded there were 7,882, and of prisoners taken away by the Confed- 
erates in their retreat, 3,956. Beauregard's loss cannot be stated with 
complete accuracy. The best authorities place it at 10,699, o^ whom 
1,728 were killed. On the first day the Confederates captured thirty- 
three cannon ; on the second day the Federals captured thirty. In this 
respect, therefore, the honors were about equally divided. 

Concerning this battle volumes have been written. Partisans of each 
side have claimed it as a victory for their party, while others have 
declared it indecisive. The self-esteem of many of the distinguished 
officers engaged has been nearly touched, and many of them have added 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 261 

their opinions, explanations, or theories to the controversy. But it would 
seem that a dispassionate study of the battle would establish the fact 
that on the first day the victory was won by the Confederates, only to 
be wrested from them by the Federals on Monday. But as the Federal 
victory was final, the Federals ertjoyed all the fruits of triumph. They 
remained on the ground, while the Confederates had to make a weary 
retreat of nearly eighteen miles. 

But that the battle of Shiloh was indecisive cannot for a moment 
be admitted. It opened the back door of the Confederacy for invasion. 
It made the cleft wherein was to be inserted the wedge that should 
split the Confederacy in twain. Within a few weeks the Union forces, 
under the command of Halleck, had followed up the advantage won on 
the field of Shiloh. By regular approaches they had driven the foe from 
Corinth and seized his works there. With the fall of that stronghold 
disappeared the last vestige of that Confederate line of defence which 
had stretched from the AUeghanies to the Mississippi river. 





CHAPTER XII. 

NEW ORLEANS. PLANS FOR THE CAPTURE OF THE CRESCENl' CITY. BUTLER'S FOC- 

PEDITION. THE FORTS AT THE MOUTH OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. FARR.\GUT'S 

NAVAL FJCPEDITION. THE PASSAGE OF THE FORTS. THE COT lAKEN. RIVER 

PATTLE BEFORE MEMPHIS. ELLET AND HIS STE.\M-R.^MS. MEMPHIS T.AKEN. 




rET down in the spong)- soil of Louisiana, not far from the 
mouth of the ^Mississippi, is the quaint old city of New 
Orleans. Its people had been prompt to cast their lot with 
the Confederacy. Beauregard, the idol of the Creoles of the 
city, had commanded the Southern forces at the bombardment of Fort 
Sumter. The Washington Artillery, the crack military company of the 
Crescent City, had been on the field on that bloody day at Bull Run. 
Albert Sydney Johnston, who laid down his life at Shiloh, was a cheva- 
lier of the queen city o( the South. All that the Confederacy asked 
of New Orleans — men. money, or munitions of war — was granted, and 
granted with a cheerfulness that gave no signs of the sore privations 
which the war had brought upon the people of the Creole city. 

The war had not lasted very long when the Union authorities 
262 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 263 

determined upon an expedition against New Orleans. Though in the 
heart of the enemy's country, and far from the nearest point in the 
possession of the Federals, the city was really an easy prey for an 
invading force. A land force alone could never reach the town ; but 
a combined military and naval expedition, advancing by way of the 
Gulf of Mexico and the Mississippi river, could easily bring the city 
under subjection. 

In January, 1862, Gen. Benjamin F. Butler was in consultation with 
Secretary Stanton. After a long chat over military affairs in general, 
the secretary suddenly inquired, — 

"Why can't New Orleans be taken?" 

" It can," said Butler coolly. 

The suggestion had never before been made, but Butler was a man 
but little given to considering ways and means. He believed all things 
possible, let but sufficient determination to overcome obstacles be mani- 
fested. That night, with maps and charts and books, he worked over a 
plan for the capture of the Southern metropolis. In a few days his 
plans were matured, and accepted by the Secretary of War. Prepara- 
tions for the expedition were then pressed forward with all possible 
energy. 

By the 25 th of February, Butler's expedition was ready to put to 
sea. Before leaving, the general called at the White House to pay his 
respects to the President. As he left Lincoln he said, " Well, good-by, 
Mr. President; we shall take New Orleans, or you'll never see me again." 

" The man who takes New Orleans," responded Mr. Stanton, who 
was present, " is made a lieutenant-general." 

In the Gulf of Mexico, near the coast of Mississippi, lies a low bar 
of shifting sand, known as Ship Island. At no point is it more than a 
few feet above the water-level. When the winds lash the waters of the 
gulf into tumbling waves, it is hard to tell where the island lies, so like 
the foaming breakers is its white sand. Sixty-five miles away, as the 
crow flies, is New Orleans ; ninety-five miles to the south-west are the 
mouths of the Mississippi, and ten miles due north the nearest main- 



264 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i 



land. The whole island contains less than two miles of land, and is 
nowhere wider than a scant three-quarters of a mile. 

This bit of land had been chosen by General Butler as the place 
of rendezvous for his forces. Already General Phelps, with two thousand 
men, was there, and had held the island since December, 1861. After 
a thirty days' voyage, replete with disaster, Butler and his troops reached 
the island and disembarked. There were then twelve thousand men on 
the narrow sand-bar. Water they obtained in plent}- b}- sinking wells, 
but all provisions had to be brought from the far North. The nearest 
main-land was the hostile coast of Mississippi. The soldiers ruefully 
quoted the words of Dr. Watts's hymn : — 

" Lord, what a wretched land is this, 
, Which yields us no supplies ! " 

But wretched though the land was, the soldiers of Butler's com- 
mand were condemned to spend a month or more there in idleness, 
while the force that really took New Orleans was preparing for battle. 

For it was not to General Butler, nor to any other military com- 
mander, that the fall of New Orleans was due. The nav\- alone, and 
that doughty sailor Farragut, brought the Crescent City under the 
domination of the authorities of the United States ; and to Butler was 
left only the sorry glory of holding that which Farragut had won at 
the muzzle of his cannon. 

That the laurels won at New Orleans should belong to the navy 
in nowise reflects upon the ability, energy, or courage of General 
Butler. The situation of the city and the nature of its defences made 
it vulnerable only to a naval attack. On all sides it is hemmed in 
by gloomy swamps or broad expanses of sea-marsh, across which no 
army could move. But the great river, sweeping away to the south- 
ward, affords a path for vessels up to the city's broad levees. This 
path Farragut, with his stanch vessels, opened, and held the town in 
subjection until the transports could bring Butler and his men to the 
door of the citv. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 265 

The Confederates had not been unmindful of the danger that 
threatened their city from the South. Seventy-five miles below the 
city, in one of the mighty bends of the river, stood two forts. Fort 
St. Philip, a work mounting forty guns, stood on historic ground. In 
1 815, a work bearing the same name had stayed the progress of a 
British fleet up the river and helped General Jackson to win the battle 
of New Orleans. Across the river from St. Philip stood, and still 
stands, Fort Jackson, — a star-shaped fort of heavy masonry, provided 
with numerous bomb-proofs. It mounted seventy-four guns, and had a 
water battery of six guns which commanded a long stretch of river. 
Altogether it was a very powerful work, and with the support of 
Fort St. Philip might well be expected to close the Mississippi against 
all hostile vessels. 

F'or the purpose of still further impeding the progress of an in- 
vading fleet, the people of New Orleans had raised funds for the 
purchase of a ponderous chain with which to close the river. Hulks 
were anchored a few hundred feet apart and connected by chains, so 
as to span the river from shore to shore ; and the Confederates looked 
fondly upon this device as one certain to hold the Union vessels in 
check until the heavy guns of the forts could hammer them to pieces. 
But when the hour of trial came the chain proved worthless. 

About the middle of March came Farragut, with a fleet of forty- 
seven armed vessels, of which twenty-one were mortar-schooners and the 
rest men-of-war. A month was spent in getting the heavy war-ships 
across the bar, and all steamed slowly up to the neighborhood of the 
forts. The mortar-vessels, with their masts decked with green boughs, so 
that at a little distance they looked like a part of the thickets of willow 
that lined the banks of the great river, were anchored in positions care- 
fully chosen for them by the surveyors. The gunners on these boats 
had no need to see their targets. The one heavy mortar which each 
schooner carried was immovable, — fixed in place to throw a shell high 
into the air at one unvarying angle. The surveying officers calculated 
the distance and the direction of the fort from each available point, 



266 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

then anchored there a mortar-boat, which could pitch its ponderous 
shells high over the surrounding tree-tops and drop them into the 
fort, of which the gunners could at no time catch a glimpse. Twenty 
vessels were thus put in position. 

The Confederates in the forts up stream were kept well informed 
of what was going on below them b\- spies who. concealed in the 
dense underbrush along the river-bank, could safely watch every 
movement of the Union fleet. One night they set fire to a flat-boat, 
piled high with light wood well soaked with tar and turpentine, and 
set it drifting down upon the L^nion fleet. A correspondent of the 
"New York Times" thus tells how it was handled: — 

*' A turgid column of black smoke, arising from resinous wood, was 
seen approaching us from the vicinity of the forts. Signal-lights were 
made, the varied colors of which produced a beautiful effect upon the 
foliage of the river-bank, and rendered the darkness intenser by contrast 
when they disappeared. Instantl}- a hundred boats shot out toward the 
raft, which was now blazing fiercely and casting a wide zone of light 
upon the water. Two or three of the gunboats then got under way and 
steamed boldly toward the unknown thing of terror. One of them, the 
'Westfield,' Captain Renshaw, gallantly opens her steam-valves and 
dashes furiously upon it, making sparks fly and timbers crash with the 
force of her blow. Then a stream of water from her hose plays upon 
the blazing mass. Now the small boats lay alongside, coming up helter- 
skelter, and actively employing their men. We see ever>'thing distinctly 
in the broad glare, — men, oars, boats, buckets, and ropes. The scene 
looks phantom-like, supernatural, intensely interesting, inextricably con- 
fused. But finally the object is nobly accomplished. The raft, yet fiercely 
burning, is taken out of range of the anchored vessels and towed ashore, 
where it is slowly consumed. As the boats return, they are cheered by 
the fleet, and the scene changes to one of darkness and repose, broken 
occasionally by the gruff hail of a seaman when a boat sent on business 
from one vessel to another passes through the fleet." 

The next morning the bombardment was begun. It was terrible alike 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 267 

to assailants and assailed. The sailors who handled the mortars were 
deafened by the thunder of guns, and made ill by the tremendous 
concussions. Nearly twenty pounds of powder were used in each charge. 
The bomb was a huge ball of iron, weighing two hundred and fifteen 
pounds, and rose a mile or more into the air with " the roar of ten thou- 
sand humming-tops." The shock of the discharge killed fish swimming 
in the river and birds flying in the air. 

Great was the havoc done in Fort Jackson by the bombardment. 
" Nearly every shell of the many thousand fired at the fort lodged inside 
the works," wrote Colonel Higgins, the Confederate commander, to 
Admiral Porter, who commanded the Federal mortar-boats. " On the 
first night of the attack the citadel and all buildings in rear of the fort 
were fired by bursting shell, and also the sand-bag walls that had been 
thrown around the magazine doors. The fire, as you are aware, raged 
with great fury, and no effort of ours could subdue it. At this time, 
and nearly all this night, Fort Jackson was helpless; its magazines were 
inaccessible, and we could have offered no resistance to a passing fleet. 
The next morning a terrible scene of destruction presented itself. The 
wood-work of the citadel being all destroyed, and the crumbling walls 
being knocked about the fort by the bursting shells, made matters still 
worse for the garrison. The work of destruction from now until the 
morning of the 24th, when the fleet passed, was incessant. 

" I was obliged to confine the men most rigidly to the casemates, or 
we should have lost the best part of the garrison. A shell, striking the 
parapet over one of the magazines, the roof of which was seven feet 
thick, penetrated five feet and failed to burst. If that shell had ex- 
ploded, your work would have ended. Another burst near the magazine 
door, opening the earth and burying the sentinel and another man five 
feet in the same grave. The parapets and interior of the fort were com- 
pletely honeycombed, and the large number of sand-bags with which we 
were supplied alone saved us from being blown to pieces a hundred 
times, our magazines being much exposed." 

For five days the bombardment continued. The levees about the 



2GS BATTLE FIELDS OF bi. 

forts were cut by the bursting shells, and the waters rushed in. convert- 
ing the parade into a vast pond. The gunners in the forts were driven 
into the bomb-proofs. The barbette guns were dismounted. One shell 
broke into the officers" mess-room while the stati" was at dinner and rolled 
on the floor, with its fuse sputtering and smoking. The men sprang to 
their feet, that the\- might escape before the thing exploded. But the 
bomb lav bervvixt them and the door, and their one avenue of escape 
was thus blocked. Crowded together in a corner tlie officers awaited the 
deadly explosion, which all felt was coming; but just as the spark of fire 
was about to creep down the fuse into the shell it sputtered and went 
out. Had the bomb exploded, the slaughter in the crowded room must 
have been frightful. 

But despite the destruction done by the bombardment, the fleet 
was getting no nearer to New Orleans, and the mortar-schooners were 
cretting out of ammunition. Farragut wearied of this inaction, and 
determined to take his vessels past the forts, cost what it might. 
But first the chain that spanned the river had to be broken. This 
task was assigned to Lieutenant Caldwell, and successfully performed 
by him under a terrific fire from the enemy's works. Had the naval 
forces of the Confederates contested Caldwell's attack, it is questionable 
whether the chain, which was really the most efficient bar to the 
Federal ad\-ance, could ever have been broken. 

The wa>- being thus opened for his adx-ance, Farragut prepared 
his fleet for the desperate encounter. The exploit he was about to 
attempt \\-as, up to that time, unparalleled in naval annals. To take 
a fleet of wooden vessels past two powerful forts, against the rapid 
current of a great river, was a feat that had never before been 
attempted by any naval officer. 

The <3feneral orders issued by Farragut were so minute that it 
seemed as though no possible precaution had been forgotten. Ladders 
were to be kept hanging over the sides of the vessels for the use of 
the carpenters in stopping shot-holes. Tubs of water for extinguishing 
fire were to be on the decks. All light spars were to be sent down 






BA1TL1<: FIELDS OF '6i. 269 

from aloft that there mit;ht be no Hying spHnters. But i)crhaps the 
wisest order of all was that in which the admiral invited suggestions 
from officers and men of devices which might prove useful in the 
battle. This brought out many useful precautions. As the attack 
was to be made by night, the decks of some of the vessels were 
painted white, so that dark objects could easily be found. The hulls 
of some ships were plastered with clay. Some captains had sacks of 
coal or coils of rope so piled on deck as to form ramparts behind 
which the men might fight in safety; others hung chain-cables over 
the sides of the vessels, forming a kind of armor. 

It was after three o'clock on the morning of April 24 when the 
fleet weighed anchor and started up stream. The soldiers in the forts 
suspected that an attack was coming, and felt their suspicions verified 
when the Northern boats resumed, with redoubled zeal, that night the 
bombardment which for twelve hours previous had somewhat flagged. 

In two columns the navy advanced to the assault. The division 
under Farragut was to engage Fort Jackson ; the division under Capt. 
Theodorus Bailey was to run by Fort St. Philip and engage the Con- 
federate naval force above. But when once plunged in the heat of 
battle it was difficult to keep to this order, and each captain strove 
only to defend his ship against the assaults of his adversaries, and at 
the same time to maintain his advance against the strenuous current of 
the river. 

Great was the gallantry displayed on either side. Confederates 
and Federals fought with true American valor. The roar of the broad- 
sides and the thunder of the guns of the forts was constant. Many 
of the naval officers have told of the exploits of their ships. Let us 
quote some of their stories. 

Farragut first. His flag-ship, the " Hartford," began to receive the 
fire of the enemy when a mile and a quarter from the fort. But 
her advance was unchecked until a tug-boat, pushing a flaming fire- 
raft, came bearing down upon her, and in attempting to avoid this 
danger the ship was run aground. " In a moment," writes Farragut, 



270 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

" the ship \vas one blaze all along the port side, half-way up to the 
main and mizzen tops. But. thanks to the good organization of the 
fire department by Lieutenant Thornton, the flames were extinguished, 
and. at the same time, we backed off and got clear of the raft. 
But all this time we were pouring the shells into the forts, and they 
into us. and ever\- now and then a rebel steamer would get under 
our fire and receive our salutation of a broadside. At length the fire 
slackened, the smoke cleared off, and we saw. to our surprise, that we 
were above the forts, and here and there a rebel gunboat on fire." 

Short and eas\- work Farragut makes of the fire-raft, but Lieu- 
tenant Kautz. oi the •' Hartford." tells the story better. " Xo sooner 
had Farragut given the order ' hard-a-port,' than the current gave the 
ship a broad sheer, and her bows went hard up on a mud bank. 
As the fire-raft came against the port side of the ship, it became 
enveloped in flames. We were so near the shore that from the bow- 
sprit we could reach the tops o( the bushes, and such a short dis- 
tance above Fort St. Philip that we could distinctly hear the gunners 
in the casemates give their orders ; and as they saw Farragut's flag at 
the mizzen by the bright light, they fired with frightful rapidit>-. For- 
tunately they did not make suflficient allowance for our close proximity, 
and the iron hail passed over our bulwarks doing but little damage. 
On the deck of the ship it was bright as noonday, but out over 
the majestic river, where the smoke of many guns was intensified by 
that of the pine-knots of the fire-rafts, it was dark as the blackest mid- 
night. For a moment it looked as though the flag-ship was indeed 
doomed ; but the firemen were called away, and with the energ}- of 
despair rushed aft to the quarter-deck. The flames, like so many 
forked tongues of hissing serpents, were piercing the air in a frightful 
manner that struck terror to all hearts. As I crossed from the star- 
board to the port side of the deck. I passed close to Farragut. who. 
as he looked forward and took in the situation, clasped his hands high 
in air. and exclaimed, 'My God! is it to end in this way!' Fortu- 
nately it was not to end as it at that instant seemed, for just then Mas- 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 271 

ter's Mate Allen, with the hose in his hand, jumped into the mizzen- 
I'iggif'g' S"d the sheet of flame succumbed to a sheet of water. It was 
but the dry paint on the ship's side that made the threatening flame, 
which went down before the fierce attack of the firemen as rapidly as 
it had sprung up." 

The " Brooklyn," too, did gallant service, though having become 
entangled in the chain she was a little slow in getting into action. 
" I extricated my ship from the rafts," wrote Captain Craven, " her head 
was turned up stream, and a few minutes afterward she was fully butted 
by the celebrated ram ' Manassas.' She came butting into our starboard 
gangway, first firing from her trap-door, when within about ten feet of 
the ship, directly toward our smoke-stack, her shot entering about five 
feet above the water-line and lodging in the sand-bags which protected 
our steam-drum. I had discovered this queer-looking gentleman while 
forcing my wa}' over the barricade lying close in to the bank, and when 
he made his appearance the second time, I was so close to him that he 
had not an opportunity to get up his full speed, and his efi'orts to 
damage me were completely frustrated, our chain armor proving a per- 
fect protection to our side. He soon slid off and disappeared in the 
darkness. 

'" A few minutes thereafter, being all this while under a raking fire 
from Fort Jackson, I was attacked by a large rebel steamer. Our port 
broadside, at the short distance of only fifty or sixty yards, completely 
finished him, setting him on fire almost instantaneously. 

" Still groping my way in the dark, or under the black cloud of 
smoke from the fire- raft, I suddenly found myself abreast of St. Philip, 
and so close that the leadsman in the starboard chains gave the sound- 
ings, ' thirteen feet, sir.' As we could bring all our guns to bear for 
a few brief moments, we poured in grape and canister, and I had the 
satisfaction of completely silencing that work before I left it, my men 
in the tops witnessing, in the flashes of their bursting shrapnel, the 
enemy running like sheep for more comfortable quarters." 

The "leadsman in the chains" of the "Brooklyn," to whom the 



R\TTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



gallant Craven alludes. NX'as Quartermaster Thomas Hollins. His post 
was a perilous one. He had no shelter bet\\*een him and the guns of 
the enemy. The tlashes of their cannon seemed almost to reach him. 
and the bullets flew thick about his head; >-et he held his post man- 
fully. When the " Manassas " rammed the " Brookl>Ti " a man came 
out on the deck of the ram and ran forward to the bow to see what 
damage had been done. Suddenly an officer on the Union ship saw 
him fall o\-erboard. " What became of that fellow : did you see him 
fall?" he inquired of Hollins. 

** Why, x-es, sir." was the matter-of-fact resf>onse. " I did see him 
fall o\-erboard; in tact. I helped him. for I hit him alongside of the 
head with my hand-lead." 

One Federal vessel found the storm of shot and shell and the blows 
of the enemy's rams too much for her. " After passing the batteries 
with the • Varuna." " \>-rites Captain Bog[gs, " finding my \-essel amid a nest 
of rebel steamer?. I started ahead, delivering her fire, both starboard and 
port, at e\-er\- one that she pkassed. The nr?i vessel on her starboard 
beam that recei\-ed her tire appeared to be crowded with troops. Her 
boiler was exploded, and she drifted to the shore. In like manner three 
other vessels, one of them a gunboat, were dri\-en ashore in flames, and 
afterwards blew up. The • Varuna ' was attacked by die ' Morgan,* iron- 
clad about the bow. commanded by Be\*eriy Kennon. an ex-na\-al officer. 
This \-essel raked us along the port gangway, killing four and wx>unding 
nine of the crew, butting the • Varuna ' on the quarter, and again on the 
starboard side. I managed to get three eight-inch sh^s into her abaft 
her armor, as also se\-erai shot firom the after-rifled gun. when she 
dropped out of actkm pardalh* disabled. 

" While still engaged with her. another rebel steamer, iron-dad, wiA 
a prow under water, struck us in the port gangway, doing consideraUe 
damage. Our shot glanced from her bow. She backed off for another 
blow, and struck again in the same place, crushing in the side; but by 
gmng ahead fast, the cc»ncussion dre^' her bow around, and I was able, 
with the port guns, to gi\'e her. while dose alongside. ti\-e eight-inch 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 273 

shells abaft her armor. This settled her and drove her ashore in 
flames. 

" Finding the ' Varuna ' sinking, I ran her into the bank, let go 
the anchor, and tied up to the trees." 

Such, in part, at least, is the story of the river fight before the 
Mississippi forts. It was purely a naval battle, so far as the Union 
forces were concerned. General Butler and his staff viewed the conflict 
from the deck of a small steamer down near the line of mortar-boats. 
No other army officers were in the vicinity. As for the Confederate 
soldiers in the forts, their service was devoid of exciting incidents. 
Driven to the bomb-proofs by the rapidity and precision of the Union 
fire, they worked their casemate guns with energy and skill ; but their 
efforts to check the advance of the Union vessels were unavailing. In 
one hour and a half from the moment the Union ships left their anchor- 
age, the little Confederate fleet was destroyed, and the forts were passed. 
It had been an easily won victory, too. One ship, the " Varuna," was 
destroyed ; thirty men were killed and one hundred and nineteen wounded. 
Hut the results of the victory were greater than those attained by the 
slaughter of thousands of men on such fields as Shiloh or Manassas, 
for New Orleans, the queen city of the Confederacy, was now at the 
mercy of the victor. 

Pausing but a little time to repair damages, bury the dead, and 
attend to the hurts of the wounded, Farragut passed on up the riv^er 
toward the city. The Confederate batteries at Chalmette were still to be 
encountered ; but with no naval force to support them, these works de- 
layed the ships not at all. About noon the men-of-war swept into the 
famous crescent and were in full view of the city. What a sight it was ! 
The broad levees, which the blockade had long since robbed of their 
trade, were crowded with people. There were Union men there, though 
they made no demonstration. There were mere quiet curiosity seekers, 
too ; but by far the greater number were secessionists, infuriated by the 
sight of the vessels. " Burn the city ! " cried some in heedless rage. 
" Hurrah for Jeff" Davis ! " shouted others ; and pandemonium reigned 



*i74 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



until a furious tropical rain-storm burst over the scene and dispersed the 
mob. 

Then followed a period of negotiation for the surrender of the 
city. General Lovell, the Confederate commander, had taken all his 
troops away, and the mayor declared that he had no authority to 
make a formal surrender. Finally Farragut. wearying of a wordy contest, 
sent two officers ashore, who hauled down the flag oi Louisiana from 
the cit\- hall. Another landing-party raised the Federal flag above 
the mint, so that though New Orleans was never surrendered, it was 
pretty etTectually taken possession of. Having done this, Farragut 
anchored his vessels along the river front, and awaited the arrival of 
Butler. Though he had no troops to send ashore, the situation of 
the town was such that his guns could sweep it from one end to the 
other, and he thus held it at his merc\-. 

Meantime General Butler had marshalled his troops for the purpose 
of investing the two Confederate forts which the navy had passed but 
not reduced. A narrow, crooked bayou was found, by following which 
a force could be taken around the forts, and landed at such a point 
as to cut off the retreat of the garrison. A small steamer, crowded 
with troops, was sent into the bayou, but soon grounded. Then the 
soldiers were put in heavy row-boats, and pulled laboriously against the 
fierce current. After nearly five miles of this kind of travelling they 
came to a canal leading into the Mississippi. Against the current in 
this ditch no headway could be made, and so at last the soldiers 
jumped overboard and, breast-deep in the mudd}- current, dragged the 
boats through water, mud, marsh-grass, and phantom alligators to a 
point a mile and a half farther on. . But wearying though their labors 
were, their toil was rewarded. Out of Fort Jackson came a body of 
two hundred and fifty Confederate soldiers and surrendered, saying that 
they had determined to fight no longer, since the fort was surrounded. 
And the next morning the Confederate commander, discouraged by the 
mutiny of his troops, surrendered both forts. So, though the glory 
of taking New Orleans must over belong to the navy, it was to the 




Page 275. — Battle fields of '61. 

THE PASSAGE OF THE BAYOU. 



BATIXE FIELDS OF '6i. 277 

army that the huge forts at the mouth of the Mississippi finally sur- 
rendered. 

The Union authorities thus made a mighty stride towards securing 
complete control of the great river which was often called the " back- 
bone of the Confederacy." With Butler holding New Orleans, and 
Federal troops in the forts at the river's mouth, Farragut went boldly 
on with his vessels up stream, right through the heart of a country 
into which Federal troops as yet could not penetrate. At Grand Gult 
he found some batteries, but they were but an hour's diversion after 
Fort Jackson ctnd Fort St. Philip, and the Union fleet went past them, 
until a shot from the famous batteries of Vicksburg admonished the 
venturesome blue-jackets to stop. Vicksburg was to hold the naviga- 
tion of the Mississippi in her grip for yet many a long month. 

While the salt-water navy was opening the Mississippi from the 
southward, flaunting the Stars and Stripes in places where that flag had 
not been seen before for a twelvemonth, and astonishing the people 
of Mississippi and Northern Louisiana by the sight of the yards of the 
" Hartford " and the " Brooklyn " in waters where no square-rigged 
vessels had ever before been seen, a fleet of fresh-water craft, manned 
by sailors and soldiers, was working down from the northward. We 
have noted the various steps by which the Mississippi had been opened 
southward from Cairo. Forced from Belmont and Columbus, the Con- 
federates had made a stand at Island No. lO and New Madrid. 
Driven from this stronghold they had taken refuge in Fort Pillow, just 
above Memphis. The evacuation of Corinth had left Fort Pillow open 
to attack from the rear, and the Confederate troops were forced to 
yield yet another point to the advancing Federals. 

In its retreat from point to point, the Confederate army had been 
accompanied by the little flotilla of hastily constructed gunboats and 
rams that formed the Confederate force afloat. The largest vessel of 
them all carried four guns; one mounted but two. In all, the eight 
vessels mounted twenty-eight guns, — a pitiful little fleet to dispute with 
the Union squadron the control of the great river. But the Confederate 



278 R\TTLE FIELDS OF *6i. 



na\-al commander. Commodore Montgomery, was a man of sterling 
courage, and when the Confederates evacuated Fort Pillow he declared 
that he would retreat no longer, but make a stand before the cit}- of 
Memphis and there abide by the issue of the conflict. 

The battle that was fought on the broad surface of the Mississippi 
river before Memphis, on the 6th of June. 1862. was. in a certain sense. 
a naval battle, being fought wholly by forces afloat. Yet. as the day 
\**as won by the steam-rams built and commanded by Col. Charles Ellet 
and manned by soldiers, the honor of the victor>- must rather redound 
to the army than the na\y. Earl>- in the war-time. Ellet had urged 
upon the government the project of building a fleet of swift. hea\y 
rams, with which to hold the Mississippi against the enemy's gunboats. 
He asked for no cannon, believing that a swift rush upon the enemy, 
and the terrific blow dealt by the armored prow, would be enough to 
make his vessels terrible in action. The wtlt authorities looked upon his 
plan with scant favor, until the eventful day when the iron '' Merrimac " 
drove her prow deep into the side of the fiigate " Cumberland " at 
Hampton Roads. Then the ram was recognized as a formidable weapjon 
of offence, and Ellet was ordered to build a fleet of river rams with 
all possible speed. On the 5th of June he had ready eight of these 
vessels, and was on his way down the Mississippi to join a small flotilla 
of Federal gunboats Knng near Memphis, and confronting the Confed- 
erate fleet under Hollins. 

It \\'as early dawn of the 6th of June when Ellet's flotilla came 
in sight of the Federal gunboats anchored in a Une extending across 
the river about a mile and a half above Memphis. Signal was made 
to the rams to tie up on the Arkansas shore; one boat had touched 
the bank and put out a line, a second was just about to make fast, 
when suddenly the sound of a cannon boomed out upon the quiet 
momin<^ air. A jutting point cut off" all view down stream, but all felt 
sure that the gun portended the advance of the enemy. 

" It's a gun from the enemy I " shouted Ellet, wa\-ing his hat ; 
" round out and follow me I Now is our chance ! " 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 279 



A moment later the rams had put out into the stream and were 
speeding down towards the scene of action. When the point was 
rounded, a beautiful and stirring spectacle met the eyes of the eager 
gazers. The morning was beautifully clear. Not a breath of air was 
stirring, and so the cloud of gunpowder-smoke hung about the gunboats 
down the river like a curtain extending straight across the stream from 
shore to shore. The gunboats were now actively engaged, and the 
rapid flashes of their cannon looked lurid, gleaming through the pall of 
smoke. Straight into the dense curtain plunged the rams, the "Queen" 
leading, her smoke-stacks towering above the smoke, her hull lost to 
sight of those behind, EUet on her quarter-deck directing her course. 
Past the gunboats as they lay at anchor sped the rams, and the blue- 
jackets paused for a moment in their work to cheer the gallant fellows 
who were thus rushing forward to do desperate battle. For it must be 
remembered that the rams carried no cannon ; a few revolvers and mus- 
kets for use in repelling boarders were their only arms. As Ellet 
himself declared, the audacity of their attack was their chief hope of 
success. 

Choosing his victim, Ellet urged his craft forward at full speed. 
He had chosen to attack the " General Beauregard," and for a moment 
it seemed as though he was to be fought according to his own tactics, 
for the Confederate vessel sped forward to meet the " Queen " in gal- 
lant style. Men on the other vessels stopped firing, and watched eagerly 
for the issue of the duel. If the two vessels met prow to prow, both 
would surely go down. Was that, then, to be the fate of Ellet in his 
first battle? For a moment it seemed so; but just at the critical 
moment, some weakness seized upon the Confederate commander, and 
he sheered off, adroitly avoiding the stroke. Swinging around in a 
great circle, with her side dipped far beneath the waters of the river, 
the Yankee ram sought a new adversary, and found it in the " Price." 
Shot from the " Little Rebel " and the " Beauregard " crash through the 
timbers of the " Queen," but she passes on undaunted, straight to her 
mark. The Confederate vessel receives the blow right aft her wheel- 



280 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



house. The wheel is cut nearly off, and a great wound is opened in the 
vessel's hull, while the crack of rifles on the Union craft gives notice 
that the sharp-shooters are at their deadly work. In a moment a 
white flag appears over the wreck of the " General Price," and she is 
run ashore to avoid sinking. 

But now the " Beauregard " comes dashing forward to avenge the 
fate of her consort. Straight down upon the " Queen " she bears, 
and Ellet urges his craft forward to meet the on-coming enemy half- 
way. But this time the fortunes of war are against the " Queen." Again 
a crash ; but this time it is the stanch timbers of the " Queen " that 
are shattered by the shock. A great gap opens in her side. The waters 
rush in ; but though the ship is in momentary danger of sinking, her 
gallant men stand pluckih" to their posts, and her sharp-shooters keep 
up with vigor their merciless fire upon the few men who expose them- 
selves upon the decks of the enemy's vessel. 

The triumph of the " Beauregard " is but short-lived. While she 
is still engaged with the " Queen," the " Monarch " comes down 
upon her. The stroke is swift and fatal. The timbers of the Confederate 
ram snap like laths. From the " Monarch " comes a hail of rifle-balls 
and streams of scalding water from the steam-pumps. There is no 
hope for the " Beauregard," and a white flag is soon displayed in token 
of her submission. 

By this time the battle is pretty well decided. Ellet's rams have 
put an end to the usefulness of the two Confederate gunboats, " Beau- 
regard " and " Price." The " Little Rebel " has received a shot in her 
boilers, and her crew have run her ashore and fled to the woods, fol- 
lowed as they go by rounds of grape from the nearest Yankee gunboat. 
The " Thompson " has been set on fire, and is blazing on a sand-bar. 
The " Lovell " has encountered the Federal gunboat "Benton." The 
contest was a short one, for a rifled shell tore the bottom out of the 
Confederate boat, and she went to the bottom with such speed as to 
carry many of her officers and crew with her. One only of the Con- 
federate fleet, the " Van Dorn," escaped. 



BA'ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 281 

During the progress of the battle, the bhiffs on the Memphis side 
of the river were crowded with spectators. Nearly all who were there 
were ardent secessionists, and had husbands, sons, or brothers on the 
Confederate fleet. With eager and with anxious eyes they strove to 
penetrate the veil of smoke that hung over the warring vessels. With 
cheers and cries of joy they hailed every advantage gained by their 
friends, and loud, despairing groans told how their hearts were racked 
with anguish when the Confederate ships were seen to be going to pieces 
before the assaults of the Federals. Among the watchers on the river's 
bank was Gen. Jeff. Thompson, the cavalry leader who escaped from 
Fort Donelson just before the surrender to Grant. Pacing the levee, he 
watched, with evident disappointment, the rapid destruction of the Con- 
federate fleet. When he saw the issue of the battle no longer in doubt, 
he shrugged his shoulders, and with the philosoi)hical remark, " They 
are gone, and I am going," leaped on his horse and galloped oft". 

To Colonel EUet's young son, a lad of tender years, belongs the 
honor of having first raised the Union flag over Memphis. Toward 
the close of the battle, when Ellet lay wounded upon the deck of his 
vessel, some one told him that a white flag was flying over the city. 
Though he had no troops with which to hold the place, he determined 
to demand and receive its surrender. Accordingly, he called his young 
son, Charles R. EUct, then serving as a medical cadet, and sent him 
ashore to demand the surrender of the city, and to hoist the Stars and 
Stripes above the city hall. With three men the young fellow set out 
upon his perilous errand. Through the city's streets, followed close by 
angry men brandishing clubs and revolvers and hurling curses and 
threats at them, they marched. The city hall was reached. The 
Mayor declared the city in the hands of the victors, and Ellet, though 
stoned and fired at by the mob in the streets below, hoisted over the 
city hall the emblem of the sovereignty of the United States. 

By this victory the Mississippi river was opened from Cairo to 
Vicksburtr. 




CHAPTER XIII. 



THK PENINSUTAR CAMPAIGN. — GENERAL MCCLELL.A.X l.V DISFAVOR. — RIVAL PLANS OF 

CAMPAIGN. THE PENINSULA. SIEGE OF VORKTOW^'. BATTLE OF \VILLLA.MS- 

BURG. THE JAMES RIVER OPENED. PERIL OF .McCLELL.\n's ARMY. BATTLE 

OF SE\^N PINES .\ND FAIR OAKS. 




N the West, as we have seen, the war had been carried on 
with vigor. In the East it lagged. For this there were 
two reasons. The Union armies in the West found the 
great rivers an aid to their progress southward, while in 
the East, the great streams flowing from the foot of the Alleghanies into 
the Atlantic Ocean lay right athwart the path of the Northern armies, 
and served the Confederates as natural lines of defence. 

This was the first great reason for the apparent paralysis which held 
the Army of the Potomac dormant from the day of the battle of Bull 
Run until late in the spring of 1862. But a second cause of this 
inactivity was the character of the commanding general, George B. 
McClellan. 

2S2 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 283 

McClellan possessed many of the qualities which go to make the 
great miHtary commander. In his abiHty to organize and discipline an 
army, he had probably no equal among the generals of the Civil War. 
He was untiring in industry and indefatigable in his attention to details ; 
but he lacked wholly that essential attribute of the soldier called " dash." 
However well equipped his army might be, he was always possessed of 
a haunting dread that the enemy might be better prepared for battle. 
Nor could he comprehend that an army of one hundred and twenty 
thousand men could never be perfectly equipped ; that by the time shoes 
had been issued to the last brigade, the foot-gear of the brigade supplied 
early would be worn out. Therefore, while the whole country fretted and 
grew restive under the long inactivity of the Army of the Potomac, 
McClellan still protested that his troops were in no condition to move. 
Then it was that along with the universal chorus of " On to Rich- 
mond ! " there began to arise ominous cries of " Down with McClellan ! " 

For a long time President Lincoln reposed implicit trust in the 
young general whom he had brought from the West and put in supreme 
command of the armies of the United States. But at last'rtis patience 
was exhausted by McClellan's constant seeking for delay. Perhaps, too, 
the intrigues of men who sought to depose McClellan from his station 
had some share in awakening the President's suspicions. At any rate, 
midwinter saw a marked change in the President's manner toward the 
general-in-chief. Words of half-concealed criticism dropped from his 
lips. At one time he declared that the Army of the Potomac had be- 
come " nothing but McClellan's body-guard." At another, he said, " If 
General McClellan does not want to use the army, I would like to 
borrow it." Finally, spurred on by the pressure of public opinion and 
his own convictions, he peremptorily ordered an advance of all the 
Federal armies. 

This was on Washington's birthday, — the 22d of February, 1862. 
How well the order was obeyed in the West, the story of Donelson, 
Island No. 10, and Shiloh bears witness. But the Army of the Potomac, 
to which the order was particularly directed, did nothing. 



284 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



The trouble there lav with a ditterence of opinion as to the proper 
course of operations to be adopted. The objective point, of course, was 
Richmond. There was the Confederate capitol and the high officials of 
the new grovernment. Its capture would have been a fatal blow to the 
Confederacy. But how to get there was the question. 

President Lincoln was for an advance straight overland from Wash- 
ington. The Confederate arm>- still held its position at Manassas and 
along the line of Bull Run. where it had once inflicted so fearful a 
defeat upon the Federals. But President Lincoln believed that the 
superblv equipped and disciplined Army of the Potomac could meet 
the foe upon his own ground, whip him. and march on to Richmond. 

General ^IcClellan had another plan to ofter. He disliked the cross- 
country march from Washington, the crossing of broad streams, and the 
task of driving the enem>- from his works at Manassas. He suggested 
that the army drop down the Potomac in vessels, ascend the Rappahan- 
nock to Urbanna. march thence overland to West Point, at the head of 
the York river, and with that as a base move direct upon Richmond. It 
was an excellent plan in many respects. It brought the troops close to 
Richmond with but little marching over the muddy roads of Virginia. It 
forced the Confederates to leave their works at Manassas and meet Mc- 
Clellan on ground of his own choosing. But one flaw lurked in the 
project. While the Arm\- of the Potomac was thus amphibiously pro- 
srressinii toward Richmond from the seaboard, what was to prevent the 
Confederates from capUiring Washington? Right gladly would Jeflerson 
Davis and his cabinet have left Richmond to the invader could 'they 
have transferred their government to the capitol at Washington. 

This same objection applied to the plan finally determined upon, 
but was obviated by taking from McClellan's army a strong detachment 
to man the earthworks before Washington. Moreover, the Confederates 
themselves relieved the Washington authorities of much of their anxiet>- 
b>- stealing quietly awa\- from their works about Manassas on the night 
of the Sth of ^L^rch. Spies brought the news to Washington, and the 
L'nion troops marched out over the roads which had witnessed the dis- 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 285 



astrous rout of July, '6i, and took possession of the deserted stronghold. 
Anionic other things, they discovered that man}' of the formidable guns 
that peered over the Confederate ramparts were but logs of wood, 
painted black and mounted on wheels. Johnston, who had evacuated 
Manassas, took up a position on the south bank of the Rappahannock. 

General McClellan then suggested another plan of campaign, which 
was adopted. The York and James rivers, flowing nearly parallel for 
many miles, enclose a long, narrow slice of the soil of the Old Dominion 
known in the State as the Peninsula. At the extreme end of the Penin- 
sula stands P'ortress Monroe, held by the Union forces. P>om that point 
direct roads led to Richmond, passing through the villages of Yorktown 
and Williamsburg. This route was chosen for McClellan's advance, and 
the gathering of vessels of all kinds for the transportation of his troops to 
l*\irtress Monroe was speedily begun. Washington began to take on the 
appearance of a thriving seaport. Steamers, schooners, barges, pleasure- 
craft, and gunboats crowded the placid waters of the Potomac river. A 
huge army, with tremendous troops of horses, thousands of wagons, 
himdreds of heavy cannon, and of ammunition and stores a veritable moun- 
tain, had to be moved, and it took a fleet to do it. One hundred and 
twenty thousand men in all were sent to Fortress Monroe. At the outset 
McClellan had asked for one hundred and forty thousand, but when fifty- 
eight thousand had arrived he began his march upon Richmond. 

Moving up the Peninsula from Fortress Monroe, the village of York- 
town is first passed. Here the Confederates had thrown up earthworks, 
completely blocking the road. It was historic ground that the Confed- 
erates had chosen upon which to dispute the right of the Federals to 
invade Virginia. On that very spot the British general. Lord Cornwallis, 
had been hemmed in by Washington and the French allies of the Ameri- 
can colonies and forced to surrender. In 1862, the earthworks behintl 
which crouched the Confederate soldiers followed almost exactly the 
lines of the British fortifications of eighty years before. 

In command of the Confederate forces was Gen. J. B. Magruder. 
His line of entrenchments extended over twelve miles. He had eleven 



286 BA'ITLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



thousand men to defend it. Clearly he was in no condition to resist 
very long the advance of the fifty-eight thousand men with whom 
McClellan began operations. But Magruder's orders were to check as 
much as possible the advance of the Union troops. He did it, and 
did it well. By much marching and countermarching, and by mounting 
large batteries of " quaker " guns where he had no real cannon availing, 
he made a formidable showing of force. He utilized to the fullest 
extent the natural defences of his position. Swamps covered much of 
his line. A shallow stream running before his front he converted into 
a serious obstacle by building a series of dams which covered the 
fords with deep water. But despite all his show of strength, Magruder 
had no intention of risking a battle, and was all prepared for flight, 
when to his surprise McClellan, instead of attacking his works, sat down 
and prepared to take them by the tedious processes of a siege. 

Slowly and painfully the Federals dug trenches, laid out parallels, 
and hauled heavy siege-guns into position. The Confederates brought 
up reenforcements, strengthened their works, and rejoiced in the in- 
activity of their foes. Heavy rains set in. Twenty out of the thirty 
days spent at Yorktown were stormy. Disease made frightful havoc 
in the Union army. Says one of the regimental surgeons, " The sick 
in our hospitals were numbered by thousands, and many died so sud- 
denly that the disease had all the aspect of a plague." 

One day an accident came near giving the Federals a hint which, 
if followed up with energy, would have speedily dispossessed the Con- 
federates of their stronghold. A Vermont soldier, wading in the river 
which skirted the front of the enemy's works, discovered a ford, and 
further noted the fact that but a few Confederate soldiers guarded the 
earthworks at that point. A Union battery came down to the bank, 
and under cover of its fire two companies of Vermont infantry pushed 
across the stream. They met with no opposition, for the shells bursting 
in the enemy's trenches had put to flight the few troops stationed at 
that point. For a time the Vermonters held their ground unmolested 
expecting reenforcements. None came, and as the Confederates began 




Page 2S7. — Battle fields of '61. 

FIGHTING ON THE SKIRMISH LINE. 



BATFLE FIELDS OF '61. 289 

to move upon them in force, they withdrew. An unequalled opportunity 
to turn the enemy's flank had thus been wasted. Worse than that, the 
handful of Vermont soldiers who had crossed the stream were left so 
long without succor of any kind, exposed to the attacks of a foe in 
overwhelming strength, that over half had been shot down. 

The month of April was passed in digging trenches and mounting 
siege-guns. May i came, and with it an intelligent contraband who 
told McClellan that the Confederates were about to abandon their 
works. The general did not believe it, and continued his preparations 
for the bombardment which was to begin on the 4th of the month. 
By way of testing the range of some of his big guns, he threw a few 
shells into Yorktown, which only had the effect of hastening the de- 
parture of the besieged On the night of the 3d of May, the front 
of the Confederate earthworks was one line of fire. Never during the 
siege had their cannonade been so rapid nor so well maintained. The 
shells from their great guns sought out every nook and corner of the 
woods before them, and the Federals crouching in their trenches felt 
that if they were to assault those works in the morning they had a 
serious task in store for them. 

But about midnight the firing ceased. Then a red light in the sky 
over the Confederate works made old campaigners in the Union lines 
suspect a flight. At daybreak scouts went out to reconnoitre, and soon 
returned with the tidings that the enemy had, indeed, taken " French 
leave." Seventy-one heavy guns, duly spiked and left behind, told of 
the precipitation of his escape. 

. The Confederates had marched up the highway toward Williams- 
burg. The Union cavalry and a battery set out in hot pursuit, and 
came upon the rear of the retreating army as it plodded wearily along 
through mud and drizzling rain. The Confederates turned viciously 
upon their pursuers, shot down a score or more of cavalry-men, and 
captured one cannon. Night put an end to further fighting. 

Morning found the Confederates snugly ensconced in earthworks 
that had been constructed a month before for the very purpose of 



290 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



afifording a stopping-place upon this retreat. The works were thirteen 
in number, the chief being Fort Magruder, at the side of the highway. 
The ground before the earthworks was heavily wooded, and the trees 
had been felled in such a way as to impede greatly the advance of 
an attacking force, while affording no shelter from the bullets of the 
defenders of the fort. A mile back of the fort lay the village of 
Williamsburg. 

With the coming of the morning, the Federals begin the attack. 
General McClellan is behind at Yorktown, never once suspecting that a 
battle is to be fought. In his absence there is confusion. No one takes 
o-eneral command of the field, and the battle is fought out bv detached 
commands. 

Hooker's division is nearest the Confederate works. " Fighting Joe " 
waits for no command, but begins the assault when morning comes. 
His skirmishers scatter out among the stumps and fallen trunks that 
cover the ground before Fort Magruder, and a battery is sent out 
without cover to a point within seven hundred yards of the bastion. 
The Confederates turn their guns on the battery. The cannoneers are 
shot down ; volunteers take their place. So well do they serve the guns, 
that for a time Fort ]\Iagruder is actually silenced by this unprotected 
battery. Meantime the Confederates have been reenforced. A long line 
of infantry appears in the gap between Fort Magruder and the nearest 
redoubt. It moves out in a charge upon Hooker's line, but is beaten 
back. Then Hooker charges, but gains no ground ; and so for a time 
the hostile ranks surge to and fro across the narrow clearing before* 
the rampart of Fort Magruder, until many a wearer of the blue or the 
gra\' is left lying amid the stumps and bullet-scarred timber. 

All this time Hooker has been fighting alone. Smith's division on 
his right has stood idly beneath the guns of Fort Magruder without 
firing a shot. There was no general commanding to direct the course 
of battle, and Smith, instead of cooperating with Hooker, stood idle all 
the morning, and towards night deliberately began an attack at another 
point of the enemy's line, too far away for Hooker to profit b\' his 



BA^rTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 291 

cooperation. " History will not be believed," said " Fighting Joe," some- 
what bitterly in his report, " when it is told that my division were 
permitted to carry on this unequal struggle from morning until night 
unaided, in the presence of more than thirty thousand of their comrades 
with arms in their hands; nevertheless it is true." 

But just as Hooker's troops, completely fatigued and wholly dis- 
couraged by the indifference of the rest of the army, arc about to 
abandon the contest, aid comes. Phil. Kearney, with his division, sta- 
tioned far down the road, has heard the sound of battle. A born 
soldier and a veteran of the Mexican War, Kearney waits for no orders, 
but hurries his troops on, past Sumner's soldiers standing idle in the 
road, past Smith's division listlessly lounging in the fields, and so on 
to the scene of battle where Hooker is just being forced back by the 
Confederates, who advance across the open. Kearney's troops swing 
into line. A blaze of fire and a crash of musketry, and the smoke 
clears away to show the Confederates wavering. 

" Give them the cold steel, boys ! " commands Kearney ; and the 
line pushed stoutly forward, while the Confederates fell back before 
this new foe. But before the Federals could press their advantage to 
a victory, darkness settled upon the field and put an end to the 
struggle. 

Meantime the Union forces on the right had accidentally stumbled 
upon an important discovery, and, without a struggle, had secured a 
commanding position on the left flank of the Confederate line. 

A countryman had come to Captain Stewart, of Smith's division, 
with the news that the Confederates had failed to occupy all the works 
on their line, and that two redoubts, at least, on the left of Fort 
Magruder were untenanted. Negroes corroborated the story, and 
volunteered to lead a party to the spot. Captain Stewart, with four 
companies, was sent to reconnoitre, and soon returned with the news 
that a redoubt, seemingly deserted, was seen, but that a deep creek 
flowed before it. spanned only by a narrow bridge on the crest of a 
dam. Scarce four men could walk abreast on the dam ; and who could 



ooo R\TTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



tell that batteries and regiments were not masked in the woods about 
the emptv redoubt, ready to open a murderous fire upon any troops 
that might tr>- to cross the bridge? 

General Hancock — then hardly known, the hero of Gettj-sburg 
later, and. still later, when the cruel Civil War was long past, a candi- 
date for the presidency of the re- United State? — was sent wth his 
brigade to take possession of the redoubt- When the bridge \\-as 
reached, skirmishers were sent to cross it and search the woods on the 
further shore. At their head marched a young lieutenant. George A. 
Custer. Many years later a band of painted Indians fell upon him 
and a band of gallant soldiers under his command, and massacred them 
all. But throughout the annals of the CiWl War we shall see him 
often. 

Led by Custer, the skirmishers crossed the bridge, entered the 
\\-oods. and scaled the redoubt. All was empty-. The Confederates 
had no idea that such an earthwork existed. When Hancock reached 
the scene, he disco\-ered another redoubt, some half a mile awa>-. 
This he seized. But when he attempted \-et another ad\-ance. he stirred 
up so \-igorous a resistance that he sent to Smith for reenforcements. 
and fell back. 

Xo reenforcements came, but in their place an order to retire — 
to abandon all that he had won. Hancock saw the folly of the 
order, but had no choice but to obey. Still, in obe>-ing. he deter- 
mined to mo\-e as slowly as possible, hoping that McClellan might 
reach the held and infuse some life and some militar>- skill into the 
L'nion ranks. But. first of all, he had to prepare to meet the assault 
for which he could see the Confederates preparing. With a cheer, 
the long line of gray-clad men broke fipom the wxxkIs and came s\veep- 
ing down upon Hancocks one batter>- and four regiments. He fell 
back across a level plain and down a gentle incline, which, for a 
moment, hid his mo\^ments from the foe. Here he halted and turned 
about. The exultant pursuers came rushing o\-er the crest of the hill 
only to encounter a deadly \'olley. As they wa\-ered. the L'nion troops 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 293 

swept forward cheering; the Confederates broke and fled to the woods. 
It is a fair repulse. "Hull Run! Bull Run!" the Confederates had 
shouted in derision as they saw Hancock retreat; but Hancock has 
avenged Bull Run. 

But now the gathering darkness puts an end to the fighting on 
this part of the Ijne, as it had in Hooker's front. But Hancock did 
not abandon the position he had won, for by this time McClellan had 
come galloping to the battle-field, and gave orders that he shoidd 
hold his ground at any cost. Then he set about preparing for an 
assault on the morrow; but when morning dawned there was no 
enemy to attack. Repeating the tactics of Yorktown, the Confederates 
had silently stolen away in the night. The Union loss in the battle, 
which is known as the battle of Williamsburg, was two thousand two 
hundred and twenty-eight, while the Confederate loss was hardly half 
as great. 

After a night spent on the cold ground under a driving rain, the 
Federals entered Williamsburg. " We have other battles to fight before 
reaching Richmond," telegraphed McClellan to the Secretary of War; 
and by way of preparing for the conflicts that he knew were im- 
pending, he gave his soldiers a brief resting spell in the quaint old 
univ^ersity town of Williamsburg. 

Meantime, an independent force in McClellan's rear had wholly, 
without his solicitation, rendered him great assistance in his campaign. 
Turn again to the ma[) of the Peninsula, antl you will see that it is 
bounded on the one side by the York river, and on the other by the 
James. The latter stream is the larger of the two, and flows past 
the front of Richmond. Yet McClellan had chosen the York river as the 
waterway upon which to transport the supplies necessary for his troops, 
and to bring up his reiinforcements. The reason for this was, that the 
Confederates still held their ground at Norfolk, at the mouth of the 
James; and in the channel of the river, with steam up and guns ever 
shotted, floated the dreaded iron-clad ram " Merrimac," no whit the 
worse for her conflict with the " Monitor." So long as she lay there, 



294 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

supported by Confederate batteries on the bank, no vessel over which 
floated the Stars and Stripes could hope to enter the James river. 
General Wool, who was in command of the L^nion forces at Fortress 
Monroe, led an expedition against Norfolk, and threatened the place 
from the rear. The Confederates speedily evacuated the place without 
waiting: for the attack, and the commander of the " Merrimac " being 
unable to take his vessel farther up the river, set her on tire that she 
might not fall into the hands of the national forces. 

The lames was now open for the advance of Federal gunboats, 
and the " Monitor," '* Galena." " Aroostook." " Port Royal," and '* Xau- 
gatuck " ascended the stream to a point within eight miles of Richmond. 
General McClellan's arm\- left its comfortable quarters in Williamsburg. 
and plodded over the roads ankle-deep in mud. and choked by all 
kinds of obstructions left by the retreatincj enemy, until it too had 
secured a position not more than eight miles from the Confederate 
capital. 

Then something very like a panic set in among the people of the 
beleaguered citv. The\- were guarded by miles of formidable breastworks, 
with thousands of gallant gray-clad soldiers to defend them. They had 
the ver>- flower of the Confederate arm\- commanding the troops. 
Lee was there, and Johnston, the lion-hearted, whose only failing, as 
his chief said, was " a bad habit of getting wounded." and " Jeb " 
Stxiart. the dashing leader of cavalry. But notwithstanding all. the 
thought of a hostile army within eight miles spread terror in the 
streets of the city. The records of the Confederate government were 
hastily sent to Columbia, S. C. The Secretar\- of War sent his family 
awav. The Secretary- of the Treasury had a train kept in readiness 
for instant flight. Even Jefferson Davis himself feared the worst. 
•• Uncle Jeft". thinks we had better go to a safer place than Rich- 
mond." A\Tote his niece in a letter which fell into the hands of the 
Federals. 

General McClellan's march from Williamsburg had been slow and 
painful. His reports of progress to the War Department at Washing- 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 295 

ton had been accompanied by constant appeals for reenforcements. 
General McDowell, with forty thousand men, was at Fredericksburg, 
within easy marching distance of McClellan's position. Could not a 
juncture between the two be effected? President Lincoln thought it 
could, and upon his assurance that McDowell would be sent to 
his support, McClellan took his army to the very front door of 
Richmond. 

Doubtless such a juncture between the two Union armies would have 
made certain the fall of Richmond ; but the Confederates were shrewd 
enough to see the danger that threatened them, and prompt to guard 
against it. They could throw no force in McDowell's way which could 
for a moment check his advance, but they could and did hold him by 
threatening to move on Washington the instant his army should move 
from its position at Fredericksburg. How Stonewall Jackson, with his 
famous " foot cavalry," discharged this duty we shall sec in a later 
chapter. It is enough to say here that McClellan's hopes of aid from 
McDowell were never fulfilled, and the battles about Richmond were 
fought by the Army of the Potomac alone. 

The last week of May arrived. President Lincoln was importuning 
McClellan to make an attack on the Confederates. " I think the time 
is near when you must either attack the enemy or give up the job," 
he telegraphed. The general replied only with requests for more 
troops. Meantime, he had got his army into a most perilous position. 
Near Richmond flows the Chickahominy river. In dry seasons it is a 
mere creek, purling along a narrow, crooked channel. In the spring it 
is a rushing river, deep and turbid in its channel, overflowing its bank, 
and making the ground for half a mile on either side a morass. Two 
days of heavy rain is enough to make the change. 

By this treacherous stream the Union army was divided into two 
parts. Three corps — Sumner's, Fit/, John Porter's, and Franklin's — were 
on the north side of the river. Keyes's and Heintzelman's corps were on 
the south bank of the stream near Richmond. General Johnston, being 
well informed by his scouts of the disposition of the Federal forces, de- 



206 BATFLE FIELDS OF '61. 



tcrmined to sally from his entrenchments, fall upon Keyes and Heintzel- 
man, and put them to rout. 

It is the 31st of May. General Casey's division of Keyes's corps 
is busily engaged in throwing up a redoubt on both sides of the 
Williamsburg road, a little over five miles from Richmond. This is 
the very advance guard of the Union army. Behind Casey, on the same 
road, at a point known as Seven Pines, is Couch. His position is at the 
junction of two roads, the Williamsburg road and the " Nine-mile road." 
Here stood two twin farm-houses, and, hard by, a grove of seven straight 
and towering pine-trees, whence the spot derived its picturesque name. 
Couch had a line of earthworks at Seven Pines, and the left flank 
of his division extended a mile and a half up the " Nine-mile road " to a 
railway station called Fair Oaks. 

All night the rain had descended in torrents. The weary soldiers 
in Casey's camp lay in the mud, and were pelted with the drenching 
floods of a Southern thunder-storm. When dawn came they willingly 
left so uncomfortable a couch, and again set to work on their entrench- 
ments. As the morning wore on, Case}' began to suspect that an 
attack upon his post was impending. From the Richmond and York 
railway, that ran from the Confederate city to the front, came a con- 
stant rumbling of trains as though troops were being sent forward. 
After a time, Casey's scouts came in with a prisoner, who proved to 
be one of General Johnston's aides. Though the prisoner bore himself 
with reserve, there was that in his manner which confirmed Casey's 
suspicions, and led him to urge on his men in their work. 

Casey's fears were well grounded. The Confederate army was in 
full advance upon him. Had General Johnston's plan been adhered to 
properly b\- the division commanders, the battle would have already 
been begun. The three division commanders, Longstreet, D. H. Hill, 
and Huger, were to have advanced b}- three roads converging at Seven 
Pines. But Longstreet, in some way, misunderstood his orders, and fell 
into the same road with Huger. thereby greatly delaying the advance 
of that officer's division. There was bad generalship at more than one 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 297 

point along the Confederate line. Writes an officer who wore the gray 
that day, " A little brook near Richmond was greatly swollen, and a 
long time was wasted crossing it on an improvised bridge made of 
planks, a wagon mid-stream serving as a trestle. Over this the 
division passed in single file, you may imagine with what delay. If 
the division commander had given orders for the men to sling their 
cartridge-boxes, haversacks, etc., on their muskets, and wade without 
breaking formation, they could have crossed by fours at least, with 
water up to their waists, and hours would have been saved." 

Blunders like this, combined with the fathomless, sticky mud of 
Old Virginia, so delayed the Confederate advance that the attack on 
Casey's outposts was not made until noon. 

When the storm burst, it was with fury. First a few scattering 
shots along the picket line, then volleys, then the pickets came in on 
the run. For a few yards before Casey's rifle-pits and half-finished 
redoubt the ground was cleared, but beyond that was a dense thicket 
in which the Confederates were moving, completely concealed from view. 
But speedily they burst into sight, — a long line with gleaming bayonets 
and waving colors rushing down upon the Federals. Casey's guns speak 
out spitefully. They are loaded with grape-shot, and at that short range 
do fearful damage. The musketry fire, too, is deadly, though Casey's 
men are green hands unused to the smell of powder. For a time the 
Confederates are held in check. Then Longstreet comes to the rescue, 
and Casey is taken in the flank. Seeing his peril, he orders a charge. 
Three regiments led by General Naglee spring from the earthworks, 
and with mighty cheers ru.sh upon Longstreet's lines, which await not 
their coming but flee to the protection of the woods. Then followed 
an hour of charges and counter-charges. The Confederates, when too 
hotly pressed, took to the woods ; the Nationals had their breastworks 
for a place of final refuge. But through it all the Confederates, being 
in overwhelming numbers, were working around on Casey's flank, until 
at last that officer found himself in danger of being wholly surrounded. 
He had sent to the rear for aid, but none had come. At three o'clock 



298 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

in the afternoon he began to fall back. Most of the Union guns 
were taken away by the retreating soldiers, but seven were so situated 
that to remove them was impossible. Colonel Bailey undertook to spike 
these, but was shot down by the triumphant Confederates, who swarmed 
over the breastworks as the Federals withdrew. 

As Casey's men made their way to the rear, routed but not yet 
broken in spirit, they met Peck's brigade coming to the rescue. The 
new-comers advanced with solid front, while the shattered remnants of 
Casey's brigade fell in behind them. Together they endeavored to regain 
the position from which Casey had been driven, but without avail. 
They checked the advance of the enemy for a time, but that was all. 

The battle had now been in progress for four hours. Strange to 
say, neither of the commanding generals knew that it was under way. 
McClellan was sick in his tent at Gaines's Mill, and not until late in 
the afternoon did he hear the cannonading that told of a battle being 
fought. Johnston had accompanied Smith's division along " Nine-mile 
road," intending to attack the Federal position at Fair Oaks as soon 
as he should hear the thunder of Longstreet's guns at Seven Pines. 
A fierce storm of wind followed the thunder-shower of the night, 
and bore the sound of battle away from Johnston, so that not until 
four o'clock did he learn that the fighting was fierce on his right. 
When the news reached him, however, he was prompt to act upon it. 
Hurling his troops against the Union line at Fair Oaks he pierced it. 
Then wheeling to the right, he sent his troops down the " Nine-mile 
road," to aid Longstreet by taking the Federals at Seven Pines in the 
flank. 

By this time the condition of the Federals begins to appear des- 
perate. Nearly all of the troops south of the Chickahominy have 
been brought to the scene of battle, but even then they are but 
eighteen thousand against thirty thousand of the enemy. Bit b>' bit 
the\- have been forced back. First Casey has been driven from his 
advanced position back to Seven Pines. Then as Smith's troops came 
pouring down the "Nine-mile road," this position in turn is abandoned 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 299 

for one some two miles farther back, where Phil. Kearney has fortu- 
nately thrown up some breastworks. Here they make a stubborn stand. 
Again and again the Confederates dash against that dark-blue line, 
only to fall back shattered like waves against a rocky crag. Up and 
down the Union lines go the officers, exhorting their men to be firm 
and cool, to stand their ground doggedly, and see that each shot 
tells. If that position is lost, the fate of the eighteen thousand men 
south of the Chickahominy is sealed, and the Peninsular campaign will 
end in disaster and disgrace to the Federal arms. Let that position be 
held, and there is still hope for success. It is a desperate chance, 
but boys in blue are making the best of it. 

Meantime, one of Heintzelman's staff-officers is galloping over fields 
and along muddy roads to find McClellan and tell him of the danger 
impending to his left. McClellan has heard the firing, but, in the 
absence of further information, has thought it meant only a skirmish. 
He has in his camp a balloon intended to meet just such an emer- 
gency as this, by taking a signal-officer high in the air to discover 
what may be going on in the enemy's lines. But to-day the high 
wind makes balloon observations impossible. Thinking to be on the 
safe side, however, McClellan sends word to General Sumner to be 
ready to move his division in case of need. 

The fate of nearly every battle is decided by the forethought of 
some officer. Sometimes it is the commanding general of one army 
or the other. More often it is one of his subordinates. At Seven 
Pines, General Sumner was the one man to whom the salvation of the 
Federal army is due. While encamped upon the banks of the Shenan- 
doah, he' had observed the habits of that fickle stream, noted that the 
nearest bridge was far from his position, and had proceeded to build 
a bridge for his own convenience, and without orders from the com- 
manding officer. Moreover, Sumner was a man accustomed to think 
for himself. He was somewhat fearful of a Confederate attack upon 
the dismembered left of the Union army, and so when McClellan's 
warning order reached him on that last day of May, he so far improved 



800 BATFLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

upon it as to have his men under arms, in Hne, and ready to move 
at an hour's notice. He thus saved an hour's time, and that hour 
saved the army of the Potomac. 

Heintzelman's messenger had reached McClellan and told him how 
sore beset were the troops about Seven Pines. McClellan speedily sent 
word to Sumner to hasten to their assistance, and at two o'clock his 
troops began to cross the bridge. For a time it seemed as though the 
frail structure would not bear the strain of marching troops. The turbid 
tide of the Chickahominy surged about its piers until they shook in 
their foundations. The corduroy of logs that formed the approach to the 
bridge was under water, the flooring of the bridge was afloat, and only 
kept from drifting down the stream by ropes tied to trees upon the shore. 
The " Grape-vine Bridge," was what the soldiers called the tottering struc- 
ture. But frail though it was, it served its purpose. 

The bridge once crossed, Sumner's men have a hard task before 
them. Their way lies through a swamp, thick grown with trees and 
bushes, their roots bedded in a sticky clay, which clung to the feet of 
the soldiers and wheels of the cannon, making marching well-nigh impos- 
sible. Imbedded to their axles in this mud, many of the guns became 
immovable. One battery alone made the difficult march successfully. 
Through mud and stagnant water the soldiers plodded bravely on, and 
by six o'clock had reached the scene of battle 

Though surprised and sorely disappointed by the appearance of this 
strong body of fresh troops to aid their enemies, the Confederate troops 
turned their attention speedily to this new foe. Whiting's brigade 
charged valiantly upon the new-comers, but was driven back by a tem- 
pest of grape-shot from the guns of Kirby's battery, which alone had 
been freed from the clutches of the swamp. Then General Johnston 
himself rallied about him the strongest brigade of .Smith's division and 
led it across the open field, up to the very muzzles of the guns that 
poured out a murderous fire all the time. At Bull Run, Johnston had 
taken some of Kirby's guns, and the gunners now set their teeth hard, 
and swore they would die at their posts before their cannon should again 




Page 301. — Battle fields ok '61. 

SUMNER'S MARCH TO SEVEN PINES. 



1 



BA^ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 303 

fall into the hands of the Confederate soldier. With fierce energy they 
loaded and fired their pieces. Before the storm of flying lead and iron 
horse and man went down. Johnston was hit by a flying bit of shell and 
fell from his steed. His men saw him fall, and wavered. One more vol- 
ley, and they broke and fell back from the hard-fought field. The Union 
infantry dashes out from its sheltered line in the woods. It sweeps down 
the field upon the retreating Confederates ; they give way, and for the 
first time that day the tide of victory seems to turn toward the side 
of the Federals. 

But by this time night is near. In the gathering darkness it is diffi- 
cult to tell friend from foe. The battle gradually subsides into a scatter- 
ing musketry fire at long range, and the tired soldiers throw themselves 
on the sodden ground to seek a little rest. 

It was an anxious night at the headquarters of each army. At 
five o'clock in the afternoon the Confederates had been jubilant. They 
had carried every position assaulted, they had forced the Federals back 
nearly two miles, they had pierced their enemy's line, and complete 
success seemed certain. Richmond was ablaze with enthusiasm over the 
reported victory. But the appearance of Sumner changed all this. How 
he had crossed the Chickahominy none could tell, but that the rest of 
McClellan's army might come to the battle-field by the same path 
was more than possible. Moreover, Johnston's wound had deprived the 
Southern army of its head. Smith, who succeeded to the command, 
could by no means replace him. After consultation with the chief 
officers of the Confederate government in Richmond, it was determined 
to withdraw the army in the morning. 

Nor were the hearts of the officers about the Union camp-fires 
much lighter. True, they felt the great danger was past, but they had 
a smarting sense of defeat and disgrace left after the day's fighting. 
After chasing the enemy to his stronghold at Richmond, it was hardly 
creditable to the Federal generalship that he should have sallied out 
and put his pursuers to flight. As for the outcome of the morrow's 
battle, none could tell what it might be. 



304 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



All that night a chill rain fell, drenching the weary soldiers on 
picket duty, or about the camp-fire. All night the rumble of the am 
bulances in the streets of Richmond told of the deadly havoc of the 
great battle. The exultation had died away in the city. The people 
were beginning to suspect that the victory was not so complete as the 
first reports had announced. And the lists of killed and wounded that 
began to be made public showed that, even if complete, the victory 
had been dearly bought. 

The story of the second day's battle is quickly told. The Con- 
federates made scarcely any resistance to the Federal advance, and 
before noon the Stars and Stripes again waved over the positions from 
which the blue-coats had been driven the day before. Sullenly, and 
with heavy hearts, the Confederates made their way back to the be- 
leaguered city, from which they had so gayly issued on the day before. 
The Federals pressed closely on behind them until within four miles 
of the city. " I have no doubt but we might have gone right into 
Richmond," said General Heintzelman afterwards, and the other com- 
manders of Union divisions concurred in this opinion. 

Thus ended the battle known variously as the battle of Seven 
Pines or the battle of Fair Oaks. That it had not terminated dis- 
astrously to the Union arms was due chiefly to General Sumner's 
promptitude, and, perhaps, somewhat to General Johnston's wound ; for 
had that officer been on the field upon the second day of battle, the 
Confederates would have not so tamely retreated. Though in some 
degree indecisive, the battle was one of the most hotly contested of 
the whole war. The Union loss, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, 
amounted to five thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine men. The 
Confederate loss nearly approached eight thousand men. As not more 
than fifteen thousand men on either side were actually engaged, the 
loss was somewhat unusual. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

STONEWALL JACKSON. THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY. — HOW JACKSON CHECKED MCDOWELL. 

ASHBY'S EXPLOITS. EVACUATION OF WINCHESTER. BATTLE OF KERNSTOWN. 

BATTLE OF MCDOWELL. SURPRISE OF THE FEDERALS AT FRONT ROYAL. ON THE 

ROAD TO WINCHESTER. DEATH OF ASHBY. BATTLE OF PORT REPUBLIC. 

BATTLE OF CROSS KEYS. END OF THE VALLEY CAMPAIGN. 




HE analogy of war to a game of chess is often remarked. 
The " moves " of the pieces in the lesser game are not 
more arbitrarily defined by the laws of the game than are 
the movements of armies limited by the character of the 
country to be traversed, or by the disposition of the enemy's forces. 
As in chess, so in war, the most efficient method of defending an 
exposed point is to vigorously threaten some vulnerable and important 
portion of the enemy's' territory. It was by tactics of this kind that 
Richmond was protected from McClellan's attack. The Union general 
had led his army to the very gates of the Confederate city, in the 
expectation that he would be joined by General McDowell, who, with 
an army of forty thousand men, was at Manassas. But McDowell was 

303 



306 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



\irtiially kept a prisoner b\' Stonewall Jackson, whose rapid movements 
in the Shenandoah valley fairly mystified the Federal authorities, and 
led them to beheve that if McDowell left his post for a moment, 
Jackson's " foot cavalr)' " would appear in the streets of the national 
capital. 

The rich valley of the Shenandoah lies in the western part of 
Virginia, extending north and south. The mountains of the Blue Ridge 
separate it from the greater part of the State and from Richmond. 
At its northern end is Harper's Ferry, the gateway to Maryland and 
to Washington. A Confederate force in the valley was a constant 
menace to the national capital, while a Federal force in the same 
locality gave no alarm to the defenders of Richmond, who, with the 
detachment of but a small body of troops, could close the few moun- 
tain-passes that gave egress from the \alley. 

The history of military events in the Shenandoah valley almost 
necessarily takes the form of an account of the military exploits of 
that remarkable soldier and great leader, " Stonewall " Jackson. It was 
in the valley that he won his fame as a general, though the name 
by which his men loved to call him was gained at Bull Run. But 
from November, 1861, until midsummer of the following year, he led 
his men up and down the fertile valley, now in dashing advance, 
again in no less masterly retreat, until the soldiers came to know 
every stone, or spring, or spreading tree by the wayside. 

Though sent to the valley in December, Jackson undertook little 
in the way of offensive operations until spring. The winter was a bitter 
one, and the sufferings of the Confederate soldiers were often almost 
unbearable. One expedition that was undertaken for the purpose of 
destroying the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad compelled the troops to 
bivouac several nights in the midst of driving snow and sleet. The 
soldiers had not yet learned what manner of man their commander 
was, and many roundly denounced him for undertaking a march at 
so inclement a season. " One morning," writes General Imboden, of the 
Confederate armv. " some of his men having crawled out from undei 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 307 



their snow-laden blankets, half frozen, were cursing him as the cause 
of their sufferings. He lay close by under a tree, also snowed under, 
and heard all this; and, without noticing it, presently crawled out too, 
and, shaking the snow off, made some jocular remark to the nearest 
men, who had no idea he had ridden up in the night and lain down 
amongst them." It was by thus sharing with the humblest private all 
the hardships of war that Jackson won the respect of his troops. 

The winter was spent by the Confederates in winter quarters at 
Winchester. But in March the Federals in overwhelming force, led by 
General Banks, entered the valley and forced Jackson to fall back. 
The retreat was made with great deliberation, Jackson carrying off with 
him all his stores, camp . equipage, and munitions of war. The rear of 
the retreating column was covered by the cavalry under command of 
Colonel Ashby, a dashing trooper, and the hero of many daring ex- 
I)loits during the valley campaign. It is said that on this occasion 
Ashby sat calmly on his horse watching the Federal troops march 
into the town. When the head of the hostile column was almost upon 
him, he waved his sword above his head with a cheer, and dashed 
off, but found himself confronted by two Union cavalrymen who had 
been sent to cut off his retreat. Galloping fiercely down upon his 
would-be captors, Ashby sent one to earth with a shot from 
his pistol, and catching the other by the collar, dragged him from 
his saddle and carried him off in triumph. 

The Confederates retreated down the valley as far as the village of 
Mount Jackson, some forty-five miles. The main body of the Federals 
remained at Winchester, but their advance guard proceeded as far as 
Strasburg, where they went into camp. For about, ten days the two 
armies thus confronted each other, while between the two, Ashby's cav- 
alrymen scoured the c6untry, closely ob.serving the movements of the 
Federals, and now and then cutting off some luckless Union picket who 
had ventured too far from his lines. On the 21st of March Ashby 
sent a courier to Jackson with the information that the Federals were 
falling back from Strasburg. Jackson did not know what this movement 



308 BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



portended, but determined to follow, and immediately upon the receipt 
of the news led his troops on one of those forced marches which earned 
them the name of " the foot cavalry." Twenty-six miles the gray-clad 
soldiers made in that one day's march, and when they threw themselves 
down about the camp-fires at night, they could hear the din of a lively 
skirmish between Ashby and the Federal rear-guard. 

During the march, Jackson discovered the reason for the Federal 
retreat. In obedience to an order from Washington, Banks had with- 
drawn a large part of his ami)- from the valley, leaving Shields alone 
to confront the Confederates. This greatly reduced the force of the 
Federals before Jackson, but untrustworthy scouts told him that he had 
but four regiments to cope with. As a matter of fact. Shields 
had about seven thousand men left under his command, while Jackson 
had less than three thousand. 

It was in the middle of the afternoon of March 23 that Jackson's 
advance guard under Ashby came up with the Federal forces at the little 
hamlet of Kernstown, on the road to Winchester. The Confederates 
were worn out by a long and rapid march. In thirty-six hours the\' had 
passed over a distance of more than forty miles. " The men were so 
utterly broken down when thc\- reached the battle-field," declares an eye- 
witness, "and so footsore and weary, that if they trod on a rock or any 
irregularity they would stagger." When he saw the condition of his 
troops. General Jackson at first thought to defer his attack until the 
next day. But riding forward in front of his lines, he saw that the Fed- 
erals occupied a position from which they could watch every movement 
of his troops. Fearing that the dela\- would give them time to bring up 
reenforcements, and still believing that he had only four regiments to 
contend with, he determined to begin the battle at once. The thunder 
of his batteries and the advance of his skirmish line gave notice of his 
intentions to the Federals, who responded with promptitude. 

It was early spring-time, and the farmers in that fertile valley had been 
at work with plough and harrow preparing the fields for seeding. Two 
such ploughed fields divided by a stone wall became the scene of battle. 



RATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 309 



The lines of both armies were formed in protecting patches of woods ; 
between them lay the ploughed ground^ with the stone wall in the middle 
lying parallel to the hostile lines. It became evident early in the action 
that the Federals were trying to turn the left flank of their foes, so that 
the battle, instead of taking the form of dashing charges and a steady 
advance, was rather in the form of a slow drifting of both lines to the 
westward, — the Federals trying to get beyond Jackson's flank, and the 
Confederates rapidly sending troops in that direction to confront them. 
Meantime the cannon and the musketry roared in a tremendous chorus, 
" There was an almost continuous roar of musketry," writes Jackson in 
his official report. " It rose and fell and swelled on the air like some 
grand infernal organ," writes one of the Union officers. The aim of 
the Federal cannoneers was deadly, and their fire rapid. Great havoc 
was made in the Confederate ranks. One Confederate gun was knocked 
from its carriage by a solid shot. Another was overturned. Both were 
captured by the Federals. On the Confederate left was a bitter struggle 
for the possession of the stone wall. Federals and Confederates advanced 
from the sheltering woods, firing as they charged, each seeking first to 
gain the coveted coign of vantage. Breaking into a double-quick, the 
Confederates dashed across the ploughed field, reaching the wall just 
in time to load and fire a volley point-blank into the breasts of their 
adversaries. The effect was immediate. The ground before the wall 
was covered with Union dead. The survivors wavered a moment, then 
turned and fled, while the Confederates, snugly hidden behind their 
breastworks, were able to hold their ground without loss. 

But at other points upon the battle-field the wearers of the gray 
were less fortunate. They were outnumbered, and the. troops opposed to 
them were by no means their inferiors in bravery. Often a regiment of 
Confederates, pursuing a body of Union troops, would come suddenly 
upon a regiment of blue-coats whose existence had not been suspected. 
" They seemed to rise out of the earth," said a soldier who followed 
Jackson on that day. Jackson was everywhere. On his homely old 
sorrel horse he led several charges, and more than once, by his personal 



310 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



determination and gallantry, saved his line from giving way. For two 
hours he holds his ground. The sun has gone down in the west. In 
the gathering dusk the movements of foes and friends alike are indistinct. 
Jackson has found out how greatly he has underestimated the Federal 
strength, and no longer hopes to rout his foes. If he can beat ofif 
defeat until the night shall put an end to the battle it is all he can 
hope for. But even in this he is disappointed. In the centre of his 
line, where the storm of war was fiercest, he had posted the brigade 
which had stood with him at Bull Run, when the soldiers cried, " Look 
at Jackson, standing like a stone wall." Ever since that day the brigade 
had borne the name of the " Stone-wall Brigade," and where the danger 
was greatest there was it to be found. So on this day, at Kernstown, it 
had long withstood the shocks of the Federal charges ; but towards night, 
with ammunition exhausted, and nothing but the bayonet left with which 
to beat back the assaults of the enemy, it began to fall back. Jackson's 
quick eye caught sight of the movement, and saw in it impending defeat. 
Putting spurs to his horse he galloped to the spot. 

"Hold your ground, men! Who ordered this retreat?" he cried. 
Then seeing that in the din of battle his voice was not heard, he caught 
a drummer-boy b)- the shoulder and dragged him to a hillock in full 
view of the troops. 

" Beat the rally ! " 

The order was quick and stern. The drummer, frightened as much 
to find himself in " Old Jack's " grasp as by the storm of balls that 
whistled by his ears, plied his sticks with a will. The roll of the drum 
rose above the noise of battle. The retreating soldiers looked up and 
saw Jackson beckoning them forward. With cheers they responded to 
the call, and soon something like order was restored in their ranks. 

But it was too late to save the day. The Federals had noted the 
signs of weakness in the enemy's ranks. With renewed spirit they 
pressed forward on all sides. The Confederate centre was pierced, the 
left flank turned, the right weakening. The day was lost, and the one 
course left for Jackson was to make his retreat orderly and not a rout. 




Page 311. — Rattlk fields ok '6i. 



JACKSON AT KERNSTOWN. 



HAT'PMO FIP:LDS OF '6i. 313 

As his men had not lost their spirit nor their obedience to discipHne, 
this was an easy task. " Such was their <jallantry and high state of dis- 
cipHne," wrote General Shields in his report to the Union war-authorities, 
"that at no time during the battle or pursuit did they give way to 
panic." And another Union officer says: "Many of the brave Virginians 
who had so often followed their standards to victory lingered in the rear 
of their retreating comrades, loading as they slowly retired, and rallying 
in squads in every ravine and behind every hill, or hiding singly behind 
the trees. They continued to make it very hot for our men in the 
advance." 

Night put an end to the pursuit. Though the weary Confederates 
continued their toilsome march down the valley to the southward their 
ranks were sorely shattered, for the battle, though short, had been san- 
guinary. Of the three thousand men or less who went into the fight 
on the Confederate side, seven hundred and eighteen had been numbered 
among the killed, wounded, or missing. The Union loss was five hun- 
dred and ninety. But, though defeated and driven from the field, Jackson 
had accomplished his great object. He had given the Federals a touch 
of his mettle ; they found him dangerous ; and the portion of Banks' 
army which had been sent beyond the Blue Ridge to join McDowell and 
move upon Richmond was hastily recalled to the Shenandoah valley, 
and thus one danger which threatened the capital of the Confederacy 
was removed. 

For more than a month the two armies moved slowly along down 
the Shenandoah valley, Jackson in retreat, Banks following him closely, 
but not attempting to overtake him or bring on a general battle. Ashby, 
with his artillery and cavalry, brought up the Confederate rear, and was 
engaged in an almost continuous skirmish with the Federal van. At 
one point the valley turnpike crosses the north fork of the Shenandoah 
river, which is there both wide and deep. A wooden bridge spanned the 
stream, and to Ashby fell the duty of burning it when the Confederate 
troops should have crossed in safety. The Federals well understood the 
importance of saving the bridge. The stream was swollen by recent 



314 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



rains, and unfordable, so their van pushed on to drive Ashby away 
before his work could be completed. In this the pursuers were success- 
ful. The timbers of the structure were wet and slow to take fire, and while 
Ashb>- and his men were still on the structure, plying the axe and the 
torch, two squadrons of blue-clad cavalrymen came plunging down the 
bank and dashed on to the bridge into the midst of the smoke and flame. 
Though the Confederates upon the river's bank turned their guns on 
the bridge, the new-comers dismounted, brought water in their hats, and 
soon extinguished the little fire that the Confederates had been able to 
kindle. Then the>- mounted again and set out in pursuit of Ashby's 
men, who had fled, leaving their leader standing on the bank. Ashby 
saw his danger, and sprang to his horse. The first files of the Federal 
cavalry were almost upon him as he swung himself into the saddle. x\t 
the touch of the spurs Ashby's magnificent w^hite steed sprang fonvard. 
His hoofs resounded on the hard, smooth turnpike. After him galloped 
the blue-coats, keeping up a constant fusilade with carbines and revolvers. 
They knew not who their flying foe might be; but his bearing, as much 
as his uniform, convinced them that he was an ofl[icer of high rank in 
the Confederate service. For two miles the chase was kept up. then 
Ashbv saw a little way before him his men drawn up at a bend in the 
road. Looking over his shoulder he found that all his pursuers had 
abandoned the chase save two. and these he determined to meet. 
Quickly wheeling his horse, he drew his sabre, and stood ready for the 
cavalrvmen. who came rushing forward with swords uplifted. The first 
was run through the bod>- by the Confederate trooper's steel, and the 
second, at the moment when his sword was about to fall on Ashby's 
head, was shot through the body by one of Ashby's men. 

Though Ashby escaped, the Federals had the bridge, and their pur- 
suit of Jackson slackened not at all until he found a strong position at 
the southern end of the valley, and turned to confront them. Then for 
a time the two armies lay idle. Jackson was reenforced from Richmond, ■ 

and early in May was ready to take the field against the enemy. Then, 
to the astonishment of his men. the consternation of the inhabitants of 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 315 

the valley, and the joy of the Federals, he abandoned the Shenandoah 
valley, and led his troops to the eastward of the Blue Ridge. The news 
of Jackson's flight spread fast. The Union commanders sent congratula- 
tory telegrams to Washington, and began to put their troops in motion ; 
and while they were thus fancying themselves secure from further 
molestation, Jackson, with all his troops, was speeding back to the valley 
as fast as locomotives could drag him. His retreat had been but a ruse 
to throw the enemy off his guard. At Staunton the Confederate troops 
left the cars. Here they were joined by the cadets of the Virginia 
Military Institute, — smooth-faced young striplings, who were all enthu- 
siasm at the prospect of following Stonewall Jackson into battle. 

The enemy whom Jackson sought was at McDowell, a few miles 
west of Staunton. Here were about two thousand five hundred Union 
troops, in command of General Schenck. To attack this force Jackson 
pushed on hastily from Staunton, sending a force of cavalry ahead to 
catch and stop any travellers who might give warning to the Federals 
of his approach. In this, however, he failed, and the Union scouts kept 
their general well informed of the enemy's approach. 

On the 8th of May the hostile armies met. Though outnum- 
bered, the Federal forces showed great gallantry and took the offensive 
in the battle. Four hours they fought bravely to drive the Confederates 
from a commanding position they had taken, but to no avail. The 
shades of evening put an end to the struggle just in time to save the 
Union force from going to pieces. Under cover of the night Schenck 
retreated to the westward, whither he was followed next morning by 
Jackson. 

But the Confederates did not continue long in pursuit. Abandoning 
his operations against Schenck almost as suddenly as he had begun 
them, Jackson returned to the valley. His object now was to unite 
with Ewell and crush Banks, who was at Strasburg. For this purpose 
he made a series of forced marches, often making thirty miles in 
twenty-four hours. When the order to halt came, his soldiers would be 
seen throwing themselves at full length upon the ground, half dead with 



310 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

exhaustion. Vet. though he g.ue them plent>- ot" marching and plenty 
of fighting, the members ot" the " foot cavalry " idoH/.ed their commander. 
The sight of his old gray jacket and faded tatigue-cap was enough to 
set them madly cheering. The>- had countless jokes and by-words re- 
ferring to his peculiarities. 

•' Whv is old Jack, a greater general than Moses? " was one of the 
queries with which a new-comer in camp was sure to be greeted, and 
when he had confessed ignorance he was gravel\- informed. — 

"Because it took 'Moses forty years to lead the children of Israel 
through the desert, while old jack, would have double-quicked them 
through in three da>"s." 

On the 23d of Ma\- a large detachment of L^nion troops in camp 
at Front Roval was suddenl>- aroused from fancied securit\- b\- the 
thunder of Jackson's cannon. Panic seized upon the camp. Xo one had 
any idea that lackson was within a hundred miles ot the post. The 
camp and town were evacuated without resistance ; but while the Con- 
federates were plundering the camp — where they found five hundred 
revolvers and a vast quantity of provisions — the Federals took up a 
strong position beyond the town and prepared to give battle. Learning 
this, the Confederates dashed through tlie town on the double-quick, and 
reached the Shenandoah river opposite the position held by the Federals. 
Two bridges spanned the stream. — a wagon bridge and an unfloored 
railwa)- bridge ; tlie latter was somewhat shielded from the Federal 
batteries, and one regiment of Confederate troops crossed it. stepping 
from tie to tie under a severe hre of musketry-. More than one man 
fell between the ties, to disappear in the dark waters beneath. The river 
once crossed, however, the Confederates, being in overpowering numbers, 
stormed the Federal position and carried all before them. 

Then on marched the Confederate army towards Winchester. Banks 
was urging his column forward to reach the same point, and reach it 
before his Confederate foes could get there. It became a race, with two 
huge armies as the contestants. 

At Middletown the roads b>- which the two armies were marching 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 317 

meet. Jackson himself rode at the head of his troops, and, coming to the 
crest of a lofty hill, saw spread out before him a broad and fertile valley- 
Down the middle of the valley ran a road, and along that road a long 
column of white-topped wagons, rumbling artillery trains, ambulances, 
and bodies of cavalry and infantry was slowly moving. It was the army 
of Banks, and Jackson had arrived just in time to take it in flank. 
Hastily the artillery was brought into position, and opened a deadly fire 
on the hostile army. The cavalry dashed forward to cut off the enemy's 
retreat. The shells from the cannon planted on the hills created the 
direst consternation in the Union ranks. " The turnpike," says Jackson, 
in his report, "which had just before teemed with life, presented a most 
appalling spectacle of carnage and destruction. The road was literally 
obstructed with the mangled and confused mass of struggling and dying 
horses and riders." 

It was but the rear of lianks's army that Jackson had thus intercepted. 
The main body of the army had long before passed Middletown on the 
way to Winchester. As far as the eye could see along the road extended 
the wagon trains which brought up the rear of the army. To capture 
these was the task of Ashby, and with his cavalry and two batteries of 
artillery he set out in hot pursuit. The teamsters strained every nerve to 
take their wagons out of danger. I^Veight was thrown out to lighten the 
load. The road was strewn with guns, knapsacks, oil-cloths, cartridge- 
boxes, haversacks, small-arms, broken-down wagons, and dead horses. 
It was like the scene at the retreat from Bull Run. Ashby's batteries 
would gallop up within a short range of the retreating trains, unlimber, 
pound away at them until they were out of range, limber up again, and 
gallop like mad until once more within range. A shell striking a wagon 
would overturn it, and the road would be at once hopelessly blocked for 
everything in the rear. Before the wreck could be cleared away the 
Confederate troopers would be on the ground, and the teamsters would 
be made prisoners. Before that day's work was done the Federals had 
lost a vast quantity of wagons, teams, camp equipage, and ammunition, 
nine thousand stand of arms, and three thousand and fifty prisoners. 



318 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

The main body of Jackson's troops pressed rapidly along the road 
in pursuit of the enemy. .Hundreds of abandoned wagons, filled with 
provisions, sometimes overturned or burning, were passed ; but the troops 
had no time to stop and feast upon their contents. On through Middle- 
town and through Newtown the long gray column took its way. The 
people of the vicinity were loud in their expressions of friendship for the 
Confederates. " They seemed ready to embrace every soldier," said one 
of the command; "and so it was all along the road, bringing to them 
and forcing on the half-starved fellows, as they swept by in pursuit of 
the enemy, pies, bread, pickles, meat, and everything they could raise." 

At Ne^vtown a small force of Federals attempted to check the 
advancing column, but was quickly swept out of the path. Near the old 
battle-field of Kernstown, where Jackson had been defeated earlier in the 
spring, another skirmish took place ; but though the Federals, by the aid 
of an ambuscade, inflicted some loss upon their adversaries, the advance 
of the pursuing column was not checked. Not until Winchester was 
reached did the Confederates find any serious obstacle in their path. 

At Winchester the contest was sharp and short. At daylight of 
the 25th of May the Confederates left their camp and began the 
assault. The Federals held a strong position on a lofty hill that com- 
pletely commanded the city ; to drive them from this position was the 
first task of the Confederates, and it was quickly accomplished. Then 
the Federals, seeing the importance of the position they had lost, set 
about retaking it. Two Union batteries secured good positions and 
began to pound away at Jackson's line, while a regiment of sharp-shooters 
found shelter behind a stone wall, and with unerring aim began picking 
off Jackson's cannoneers. One of the Confederate batteries was driven 
back by the persistent fire of the sharp-shooters, who shot down the 
horses and the gunners almost as fast as they were exposed. The 
artillery-men turned their guns on the stone wall, and with solid shot 
made the stones fly; but the sharp-shooters still held their ground, and 
made the vicinity one of extreme peril for the men in gray. 

Finding that the Confederates were not to be driven away by 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 319 



artillery fire alone, the Federals massed their troops for an assault. 
Jackson prepared to meet them half-way. When the shock came, the 
superiority of the Confederates was only too apparent, and the Fed- 
erals did not renew the attack. General Banks, who had already 
concluded that he was hopelessly outnumbered, gave the order to 
retreat. The line of retreat lay through the streets of the town of 
Winchester, and the people were not chary of showing their hatred 
for the blue-coats. " My retreating columns," said Banks, in his report, 
" suffered serious loss in the streets of Winchester. Males and females 
vied with each other in increasing the number of their victims by 
firing from the houses, throwing hand-grenades, hot water, and missiles 
of every description." Once out of the streets of Winchester the 
weary soldiers pressed on to the northward, scarcely halting until they 
reached the bank of the Potomac river. 

Jackson had not time to reap the full fruits of his victory. 
Though his advance followed Banks's retreating troops to the Potomac, 
threatened Harper's Ferry, and created a panic in Washington, he had 
to speedily recall the pursuers and fly for dear life toward the southern 
end of the valley. Fremont, with some twelve thousand men, was at 
Franklin, west of the valley. Shields, with nine thousand men, was with 
McDowell at Manassas, getting ready to move against Richmond. Hasty 
telegrams from Washington ordered both of these generals to get their 
troops in motion, make all possible speed to the valley, and, if possible, 
cut off Jackson's retreat. This was a bitter disappointment to Shields 
and McDowell, for they had expected to join McClellan in a triumphant 
assault upon Richmond. " It is a crushing blow to us all," wrote 
McDowell, upon the receipt of the order. Nevertheless, the order was 
obeyed, and with promptitude. Shields and Fremont marched rapidly 
towards the valley, climbing mountain ranges and trudging over muddy 
roads through five days of continued drenching rains. But they 
reached the valley just too late to cut off the Confederates, though 
so narrow was Jackson's escape that the vanguard of Fremont's army 
reached the crest of the hills about Strasburg; in time to see the lone 



320 ' BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



train of wagons that brought up the Confederate rear toiHng along 
the road leading out of the village. A slight skirmish followed, but 
the Confederate army reached Harrisonburg without a serious conflict. 

But, though Harrisonburg was reached in safety, Jackson's army was 
yet b}' no means out of danger. Fremont pressed close upon the 
rear, and Ashby's men were kept busy in keeping his van back. 
Shields was marching up the eastern side of the valley in a line 
almost parallel with the Confederates, but unable to attack them because 
the Shenandoah, swollen by heavy rains, separated them, and Jackson 
had burned the bridges. The time had now come, however, when 
Jackson, to save his army, must leave the valley, and move toward 
Richmond. To do this he had to cross the Shenandoah at Port Re- 
public, but before crossing he was forced to turn and give battle to 
Fremont. 

On the 6th of June, while the Confederates were moving towards 
Port Republic, their rear was greatly harassed by a series of attacks 
by the Federal cavalry. Though beaten off time and again, — once 
with the loss of a prominent officer. Col. Percy Wyndham, who was 
captured, — the Federals returned doggedly to the attack, and the whole 
rear of the retreating Confederate column was in danger of being 
demoralized. A 'considerable force of Confederates, therefore, turned 
about to attack the pursuers, but met with disaster. The Federals, it 
is true, were driven back ; but Ashby, the dashing leader, was shot down. 
He was leading a charge when his horse was shot beneath him. 
Springing to his feet, he shouted to his men, who showed some signs 
of wavering: — 

" Virginians, charge ! Don't fire ; give them the bayonet ! " 

Even as he spoke a rifle-ball struck him full in the breast, and 
he fell dead, while his men rushed past him to victory. 

Ashby was the beau ideal of a dashing cavalier. He seemed to 
have no dread of death ; he positively courted danger. At Bolivar 
Heights, when his cannoneers were shot down, and the enemy with 
triumphant shouts were rushing forward to capture his guns, he sprang 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 321 

from his horse, and with his own hands wielded the sponge-staff, and 
loaded and fired the guns until the foe were driven back. At Boteler's 
Mill, when the singing of the bullets made his men uneasy, he rode 
his white horse to the most exposed point, and stood there immov- 
able, a model for them to copy. On the banks of the Potomac, 
with eleven men he charged a company of one hundred, in a vain 
attempt to rescue his brother, who was killed before his very eyes. 

The day after Ashby's death Jackson determined to move forward 
with the main body of his troops, attack Shields at Port Republic, 
and then return and finish with Fremont. His own army was greater 
than either one of the Union armies, but smaller than the two together; 
hence it was necessary for him to defeat any effort they might make 
to form a junction. Accordingly he left Ewell's division to keep a 
watch upon Fremont, while he, with the greater part of his army, 
moved forward to confront Shields. 

The Federals, however, had moved with more speed than Jackson 
had expected, and the Confederate general reached the town only to 
find that the Federals would certainly occupy it before he could bring 
up his troops to defend it. Indeed, so rapid was the advance of 
Shields's column that Jackson himself came near being cut off by it 
from his troops and captured. He had crossed to the south side of 
the Shenandoah, leaving his troops on the north side, and with a few 
staff officers was riding about the country, noting the positions, when 
there dashed forward a Federal battery, which wheeled and went into 
battery at the head of the bridge by which Jackson was to recross 
the stream. Jackson's nerve and presence of mind did not desert him 
in this trying emergency. Riding quietly towards the bridge, he rose 
in his stirrups, and called sternly to the Federal officer: — 

"Who ordered you to post that gun there, sir? Bring it over 
here ! " 

His manner convinced the Federal artillery-man that he was a 
Union officer of high standing, and, saluting with due deference, the 
commander of the battery ordered his guns limbered up. The instant 



322 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



the guns were unfit for immediate use Jackson put spurs to his horse, 
and galloped across the bridge. The startled Federals hastily un- 
limbered and sent three shots after him. It was too late. In their 
haste the gunners aimed too high, and Jackson and his staff reached 
their camp in safety. 

Nothing more than a sharp skirmish followed the appearance of 
the Federals before Port Republic that day; but while the skirmish 
was going on the thunder of Ewell's guns in his rear told Jackson 
that Fremont had come up in force, and that Ewell was giving him 
battle. 

Ewell had about five thousand men posted on the crest of a 
bridge that crossed the road, near a tavern whose sign-board bore the 
device of two crossed keys ; hence the locality went by the name of 
" Cross Keys." Heavy woods covered the dispositions of the troops. 
In front were broad expanses of open fields, across which an ad- 
vancing enemy would have to charge in the face of a destructive 
artillery fire. 

It was at sunrise of June 8 that Fremont's skirmishers advanced 
to the attack. Ewell was ready for the fray, but for some time the 
battle lagged. Jackson had ordered the Confederates to remain on the 
defensive ; and the Federals showed little inclination to charge across 
the open field, swept by the bullets from the riflemen in the forest 
on the crest of the hill above. So for a great part of the day the 
battle was a mere artillery duel. Towards night, however, Fremont 
discovered that he had not Jackson's entire army to cope with, but 
only a small division, and his attack became more vigorous. Twice 
the Federals charged gallantly upon the Confederate left; but the 
Confederates, by holding their fire until the assailants were within a 
(ew paces, did such deadly work with their rapid volleys that the 
blue-clad lines fairly melted away, leaving the ground in the Confed- 
erate front covered thick with the dead and dying. 

Until nightfall the battle raged, then Fremont withdrew, and 
Ewell's men remained in possession of the field. The Federal loss 



BA^ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 323 



was 125 killed and 500 wounded, while the Confederates had lost 287 
men. 

At early dawn next morning Ewell's troops were put in motion 
and marched to join Jackson at Port Republic. One brigade was left 
behind to detain the enemy until after Jackson should have finished 
with Shields. 

It was a little after sunrise that the battle of Port Republic began. 
Shields had taken a strong position, his right flank resting upon the 
river, which at that point is so deep and edged with such impassable 
thickets as to completely prevent the passage of troops. His left flank 
rested on a wooded ridge, and here, and at other places along the 
line where slight elevations offered advantageous points for artillery, 
heavy batteries were posted. In front of the Union line of battle 
extended a broad field of waving grain. Thus strongly posted, Shields 
awaited the attack. 

The " Stonewall Brigade " led in the assault. Proudly, with gleam- 
ing bayonets, marching under the flag of Virginia, with its brigade 
commander, General Winder, and General Jackson riding side by side, 
it advanced- The enemy's pickets were met and driven in; but a few 
yards' further advance brought the Virginians in range of the Union 
batteries. The plateau across which the Confederates had to advance 
was swept with grape-shot and bursting shells. The men recoiled 
from the task. The Confederate artillery was brought up and turned 
against the Union batteries; but the latter were equipped with rifled- 
cannon, and were beyond the range of the Confederate smooth-bores. 
Winder saw that the artillery duel was going against him and ordered 
a charge. Gallantly the Virginians pressed forward across an un- 
sheltered field, and into the teeth of a murderous fire of shell, canister, 
and small-arms. Great gaps appeared in the lines. Men dropped 
on every side. It was more than flesh and blood could stand, and 
the advancing line first slackened its pace, then stood still, and then 
drifted back, a disorganized, broken rabble, to seek shelter in the 
woods. Then, in their turn, the Federals advanced. Infantry and 



324 battlp: fields of '6i, 



artillery came forward on the run. The Confederates, disheartened 
by their reverses, were retreating, when Jackson came galloping to 
the scene. 

" The Stonewall Brigade never retreats ! " he shouted. " Follow 
me ! " 

The sight of their leader and the sound of his voice checked the 
growing panic in the Confederate ranks. Gallantly they held their 
ground. In a moment reenforcements came. Gen. Dick Taylor's bri- 
gade of Louisianians came bursting through the woods. Jackson rode 
up to Taylor and pointed out the Union battery, which was again 
belching forth shot and shell. 

"Can you take that battery?" said he; "it must be taken!" 

Taylor wheeled his horse and galloped to the centre of his line. 

"Louisianians!" he shouted, "can you take that battery?" 

A cheer was the response, and putting himself at the head of his 
column Taylor led the way. The ground was rugged and much ob- 
structed by logs and stumps. All semblance of alignment was lost. 
Every man knew the point to be reached, and each strove to get 
there, giving little thought to his neighbor. The Federals loaded and 
fired with wonderful speed and with frightful accuracy. Men were mowed 
down like grass. "They advanced," said an eye-witness, "in the midst 
of one incessant storm of grape, canister, and shell, literally covering 
the valley." At last the crest of the hill is reached. One more deadly 
discharge bursts from the smoking muzzles of the Federal guns, then 
the gunners, seeing the enemy's advance still unchecked, turned despair- 
ingly to flee. With loud cheers the Confederates rushed upon them. 
Their bayonets made havoc among the escaping Federals. The capt- 
ured guns were turned on their former owners. The Federal retreat 
fast became a rout. 

" Jackson came up with intense light in his eyes," writes General 
Taylor, " grasped my hand, and said the brigade should have the 
captured battery, I thought the men would go mad with cheering 
especially the Irishmen. A huge fellow, with one eye closed and half 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 325 

his whiskers burned with powder, was riding cock-horse on a gun, and 
catching my attention yelled out, ' We told you to bet on your boys.' " 

Upon the possession of this battery and the ground on which it 
was posted determined the outcome of the battle. Jackson had seen 
this when he ordered Taylor to make the desperate charge. The 
Federals saw it now, and immediately prepared to win back again the 
vantage ground they had lost. Heavy reenforcements were hurried to 
the spot. Fresh troops took the place of those that had suffered in 
the sharp struggle for the hill ; a charge was made and the guns 
recaptured. But, before the Federals had fairly taken possession of 
the battery, the Confederates charged again and regained the lost 
ground. So the battery was twice won and lost ; and when at last 
the struggle was ended the Federals had recaptured one of their 
guns, while the rest, with the battle-ground, remained in possession of 
the Confederates. 

So fierce and bitter was the fighting about this battery that grad- 
ually both commanders withdrew all their men from the other parts 
of the field and concentrated them there. But, though the utmost gal- 
lantry was shown on both sides, the superior numbers of the Confed- 
erates soon decided the contest. They outnumbered the Federals three 
to one, and so soon as all were brought into effective use the Fed- 
eral resistance was crushed, and Shields had naught left him but 
retreat. This he did in fairly good order. Just as the fate of the battle 
was decided, Fremont came up from Cross Keys in hot haste, with 
reenforcements that might have turned the scale had he been able to 
take his troops into action. But Jackson's rear-guard had burned the 
bridges across the Shenandoah, and Fremont suttered the experience 
of seeing Shields's army cut to pieces before his very eyes, while he 
was unable to lend his brother officer the slightest aid. 

The battle of Port Republic was one of the most hotly contested 
of the war. In it the Federals lost one thousand and two men, and 
the Confederates six hundred and fifty-seven. Great gallantry was 
shown by the soldiers of both armies, and the victory of the Con- 



326 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

federates was due largely, if not wholly, to the comparative weakness 
of the force opposed to them. 

With this battle ends the narrative of Jackson's Valley campaign. 
Upon it rests largely his fame as a soldier and a general. His rapid 
marches, his quick decisions, his prompt acceptance of dangerous 
chances, his quick comprehension of what his enemy's tactics were 
likely to be, are apparent throughout. And, if not methods but results 
are to be considered in judging the value of his work, let it be re- 
membered that he was sent to the valley solely in order to keep 
McDowell from moving on Richmond. Had he accomplished this task, 
and lost his own army, his success would have been applauded. As 
it was, he accomplished the task, saved his own army by the two vic- 
tories at Cross Keys and Port Republic, and took that army to Rich- 
mond to aid in beating off the foe that was already at the gates of 
the Confederate capital. 





CHAPTER XV. 



THE SEVEN DAYS BEFORE RICHMOND. BATTLE OF ELLISON'S MILLS. BATTLE OF 

GAINES'S MILL. BATTLE OF SAVAGE'S STATION. BATTLE OF GLENDALE. BATTLE 

OF MALVERN HILL. McCLELLAN'S FINAL RETREAT. CLOSE OF THE PENINSULAR 

CAMPAIGN. — THE END. 




FTER the battle of Fair Oaks, McClellan's army rested 
quietly in the camps about Richmond for thirty days. The 
time was spent by the soldiers in building roads and 
bridges, cutting down trees, and throwing up entrenchments. 
McClellan himself spent much of the time in begging the Washington 
authorities for reenforcements. 

The Confederates were well content with the prolonged inactivity of 
the Union army. They had suffered severely in the battles at Fair 
Oaks and Seven Pines. Richmond was a great hospital. The delay of 
the Federals in resuming offensive operations gave them time to heal 
their wounded and to fill their shattered brigades with fresh troops from 
the South and West. 

General Johnston, who had commanded at Seven Pines, had been 

327 



328 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



seriously wounded in that action, and in his place Jefferson Davis 
appointed Robert E. Lee commander of the Confederate army. Though 
to-day we cannot but believe that the cause to which Lee devoted his 
later years was eternally wrong, Lee himself must ever stand out upon 
the pages of history as one of the truly great Americans. A Virginian 
by birth, he was a connection of the great Washington, in whose armies 
his father had served during the Revolution. He had been educated to 
the profession of the soldier at West Point, and had served with credit 
in Mexico. When the war broke out, no officer in the United States 
army had such fair prospects. A special protege of General Scott, he 
had been made a colonel in March, i86i, at the veteran's request. 
But when the Southern States began to threaten to leave the Union Lee 
felt himself sorely tried. He loved the Union. He loved the starry flag 
under which he had so often fought, the blue uniform he had so long 
worn. But dearer to him than the Union was Virginia. There lay his 
family estates. There was Arlington, with its hospitable verandas and 
its spacious lawns. From the earliest history of the State the Lees had 
been the foremost family of Virginia. Their history and the history of 
the Commonwealth were one. And so when the moment came when he 
must decide whether to abide with the Union, or to go with his State. 
Lee sent his resignation to Washington, and tendered his sword to the 
Governor of Virginia. 

Having taken command of the Confederate forces, Lee laid his plans 
to assume the offensive. The Federal army was still divided by the 
treacherous Chickahominy. More than that, the Federal lines were 
stretched out for nearly twenty miles. Lee promptly determined to send 
for Jackson, and, with his army thus augmented, to attack the Federals 
and drive them from Richmond. 

His first act was to conceal his purpose from the enemy. Two bri- 
gades were taken from the trenches and sent ostensibly to the Shenan- 
doah valley to reenforce Jackson. The trains carrying the troops were 
blocked all day at Belle Isle, where were thousands of Federal prisoners 
who were to be exchanged and sent North the next day. How the 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 329 

Richmond newspapers did storm about this blunder ! They declared that 
now the news that Jackson was to be reenforced would be known im- 
mediately in Washington ; that the Federals would send more troops 
with all speed to the valley ; that any cause was doomed that was 
served by such careless and incompetent generals. All of which General 
Lee read with much satisfaction, and took pains to see that plenty of 
the newspapers found their way through the lines and into the Federal 
camp. Meantime the troops which had caused all this controversy were 
marching and countermarching in the Confederate country a few miles 
from Richmond, and made no move towards joining Jackson in the 
Shenandoah valley. 

Jackson, meantime, had received his orders to take his army to 
Richmond, and, like Lee, was trying to throw dust in the eyes of the 
Federals. His first act was to order his engineers to prepare a series of 
maps of the valley. The news of this soon got out, and every one 
thought that Jackson was going down the valley again after Fremont. 
His next move was more wily still. 

After the battle of Port Republic the Federals left a large number 
of wounded at Harrisonburg. Several Federal surgeons, with a train of 
twenty-five or thirty ambulances, were sent back after the wounded ; but 
Colonel Munford, the officer in command of the Confederates, who had 
taken possession of the place, refused to deliver them up until he could 
hear from Jackson. He promised, however, to send a courier to Jackson 
at once, and in the mean time gave the surgeons accommodations in a 
room adjoining his headquarters, and separated therefrom by only a thin 
partition. After a delay of some hours the surgeons heard the courier 
coming upstairs with clanking sabre and heavy tread. They eagerly put 
their ears to the partition. 

"Well," said Colonel Munford, "what did General Jackson say?" 

" He told me to tell you," answered the courier, in stentorian 
tones, " that the wounded Yankees are not to be taken away. He is 
coming right on himself with heavy reenforcements. Whiting's division 
is up. Hood's is coming. The whole road from here to Staunton 



330 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



is perfectly lined with troops, and so crowded that I could hardly ride 
along." 

With this important news the Federal surgeons returned to their 
camp, chuckling over the thought of how they had discovered the 
enemy's intentions. And that night Fremont fell back and began to 
entrench in preparation for the attack ; while Jackson, for his part, was 
leading his famous foot cavalry eastward, and had turned his back on 
Fremont and the Shenandoah valley. 

The march was rapid ; the men themselves knew not where they 
were going. Strict orders were issued prohibiting them to ask the people 
the names of the towns through which they might pass, or tell people 
whence they had come. To all questions the uniform answer was, " I 
don't know." 

On the 23d of June, about noon, the officers about General 
Lee's headquarters at Mechanicsville saw a solitary officer on a much- 
jaded horse come galloping up the road. His clothes were of Confed- 
erate gray, ungainly in cut, and covered with dust. A fatigue-cap was 
perched on his head and drawn down over his eyes. It was Stonewall 
Jackson, and he had ridden fifty-two miles since one o'clock that morn- 
ing, leaving his soldiers toiling along the road behind him. 

A council of war was held. Lee, Longstreet, Jackson, A. P. Hill, 
and D. H. Hill were present. The commander-in-chief briefly declared 
it his purpose to attack the Federal right wing, and, telling his four 
division commanders to arrange the details to suit themselves, left the 
room. They determined to begin the attack on the morning of the 
26th. Jackson was to take the Federals in flank. The others were 
to move out from Richmond and attack him in front. 

When the morning of the 26th arrived Jackson did not appear. 
The day was clear and bright, and as the Confederate troops from Rich- 
mond had assembled about the rendezvous at Mechanicsville, A. P. 
Hill, after waiting for Jackson until nearly noon, determined to make 
the attack without more delay. It proved to be a most fatal resolution. 
The Federal forces before him held an almost impregnable position. In 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 331 

their front flowed Beaver Dam creek, a sluggish stream about waist-deep, 
and bordered by swamps and bits of high ground alternately. On the 
east side of this creek the Federals had a long line of earthworks and 
rifle-pits. Not one bridge had been left spanning the creek, and along 
its eastern bank trees had been felled, making the difficult approach to 
it still more difficult. More than eight thousand men and five strong 
batteries defended the Union line. A wise commander would have recog- 
nized the folly of allowing men to throw their lives away in charging 
such a position. But A. P. Hill hurled his regiments into the teeth of 
the Union fire, only to see them decimated by that hail of shot and 
shell. 

The story of the battle of Mechanicsville is soon told. " The enemy 
had entrenchments of great strength and development on the other side 
of the creek," writes General D. H. Hill, " and had lined the banks with 
his magnificent artillery. The approach was over an open plain, exposed 
to a murderous fire of all arms, and across an almost impassable stream. 
The result was, as might have been foreseen, a bloody and disastrous 
repulse. Nearly every field-officer in the brigade was killed or wounded. 
It was unfortunate for the Confederates that the crossing was begun 
before Jackson got in rear of Mechanicsville. The loss of that position 
would have necessitated the abandonment of the line of Beaver Dam 
creek, as in fact it did the next day. We were lavish of blood in those 
days, and it was thought to be a great thing to charge a battery of 
artillery or an earthwork lined with infantry." 

But though from their snug quarters behind the earthworks the 
Federal soldiers saw the Confederates fall back, shattered and bleeding, 
after their gallant but ineffectual assaults upon that impregnable posi- 
tion, the general officers of the Union troops were regarding with some 
anxiety a dense cloud of dust that could be seen far away in the dis- 
tance, denoting the approach of some hitherto unsuspected enemy. Could 
it be Jackson ? That was the question which every Federal officer asked 
himself as he watched the approaching cloud. It was the question which 
went flashing over the wires to Washington, and was answered by the 



332 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

military authorities there, that Fremont reported Jackson still in his front 
in the Shenandoah valley. Only a small division of Jackson's cavalry 
remained in the valley amusing Fremont ; the rest of his army was at 
that very moment within eight miles of McClellan's lines before Rich- 
mond. 

While the Federals were awaiting the report of their scouts who had 
been sent out to discover the meaning of the great clouds of dust, dark- 
ness came on and the Confederate attack ceased. The day had been dis- 
astrous to the Confederate cause. Hundreds of brave soldiers had thrown 
away their lives in the impassable morasses of Beaver Dam creek and 
before the impregnable breastworks of the Federals. Nearly sixteen hun- 
dred men were lost by the Confederates, and in exchange for this tre- 
mendous deluge of blood they had nothing to show. The battle of 
Mechanicsville will long be remembered by the wearers of the gray as 
one of their most desperate and most discouraging battles. With it 
began that series of sharp and strenuous conflicts, with victory now 
perching on one side and then upon the other, that determined the fate 
of McClellan's peninsular campaign, and that is known as the Seven 
Days' Battles. Mechanicsville was fought on the 26th of June, the 
battle of Malvern Hill on July i. In so short a time as this were all 
the gigantic preparations of the F'ederals for the capture of Richmond 
wrecked. 

When darkness put an end to the fighting at Beaver Dam creek 
the Confederates withdrew beyond the range of the Union guns, and 
made preparations to renew the attack in the morning. About the 
Federal headquarters all was life and bustle. Scouts were coming in 
bringing news of Jackson's arrival. Deserters arrived telling of the great 
preparations the Confederates were making for an attack in force the 
next day. By one o'clock that night McClellan was so convinced of 
the seriousness of his position that he ordered the line at Beaver Dam 
creek abandoned, and a new line formed six miles to the rear. 
Before sunrise the change was effected, while a battery or two and 
a handful of skirmishers left in the earthworks kept up a scattering 



BAITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 333 

fire to make the Confederates believe that the whole Federal army- 
still confronted them. • » 

The new line chosen by the Federals was hardly so strong as 
the position on Beaver Dam creek, but was, nevertheless, a strong 
position. A shallow, muddy rivulet, Powhite creek, flowed at the 
base of a semicircular range of hills, upon the crest of which the 
Federals had thrown up earthworks and built barriers of logs. 
The artillery in the breastworks could do good service, for the ground 
in front was clear of trees, and no underbrush was there to protect an 
advancing foe from the deadly aim of the cannoneers. 

Not far from the Union lines stood a large grist-mill, one of 
the largest and finest in Virginia, and known far and wide as " Gaines's 
Mill." Still nearer the Union lines was a little settlement called Cool 
Arbor, known somewhat to Virginians as a summer resort. From 
each of these places the battle has derived a name, being called in 
the Union reports as the battle of Gaines's Mill, while the Confeder- 
ates called it the battle of Cool Arbor. 

In command of the Federal forces at Gaines's Mill was Gen. Fitz 
John Porter. He had before him the task of checking the Confederate 
advance along the north bank of the Chickahominy until General 
McClellan should have accomplished the difficult and dangerous feat 
of transferring his base of supplies from White House, on the 
Pamunkey river, to a point on James river. How difficult an under- 
taking this was, may be judged from the fact that over five thousand 
wagons, loaded with stores of all kinds, and live cattle to the number 
of two thousand five hundred, had to be taken across the muddy, 
swampy peninsula. It was, of course, of the first importance that a 
strong and determined force should stand between this long train of 
munitions of war, and it was at Gaines's Mill that this check was 
interposed. 

Porter's line at Gaines's Mill was in the form of a semicircle, 
Morrill's division being on the right, and Sykes's division upon the left. 
In front of the line was a narrow gully, or ravine, well filled with 



334 BA'ITLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



sharp-shooters lurking behind trees and rocks. Of the troops that 
made up Porter's command a great number were regulars, and in the 
battle which ensued the superiority of these well-drilled soldiers over 
the ordinary volunteer was made apparent. 

Gen. A. P. Hill opened the battle, leading his soldiers with great 
gallantry against the left of the Federal line. The battle was fought 
in the woods, the troops mancEuvring with difficulty among the count- 
less tree trunks, and the artillery doing as much damage by the 
splinters struck from the trees by the flying missiles as by the cannon- 
balls themselves. Hill's soldiers had fought the day before in the 
disastrous battle at Beaver Dam creek, and they had not yet re- 
covered from the fatigue or discouragement of that fatal day. Not 
the most arduous efforts of their leader could instil into them that 
enthusiasm and dash by which alone they could hope to drive the 
Federals from their position. Once, indeed, three Confederate regiments 
reached the crest of the hill, and for a moment the victory hung 
wavering in the balance ; but the dogged obstinacy and pluck of the 
Federal regulars, and the rapidity and accuracy with which they served 
their guns, checked the advance of the assailants, and with a quick 
charge the Federals regained the ground which they had so nearly 
lost. 

General Longstreet now took up the attack, and when Hill, after 
an hour or more of inaction, returned to the assault, the battle raged 
fiercely all along the line. At all points the tide of battle seemed 
setting against the Confederates. Despite their repeated charges they 
had wholly failed to pierce the Union line. Their regiments were 
getting decimated. The afternoon passed rapidly away. Evening was 
drawing near, and it looked as though the sun would set on a day 
which should rival the day of the battle at Mechanicsville as a 
complete and disastrous defeat for the Confederate cause. The ground 
before the Federal lines was covered with Confederate dead. The 
field hospitals were crowded with the woimded, and hundreds of poor 
fellows lay in the woods awaiting assistance. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 335 

General Lee had come in person to the field. As he rode through 
the woods he saw how • grave was the situation and how great the 
danger of defeat. One thing alone can save the day for the Confed- 
erates, and that is the arrival of Jackson, with his troops, upon the 
field before sundown. Suddenly, over on the far left of the Confeder- 
ate line, arises the noise of artillery ; then comes the rattle of small- 
arms. The noise increases until it becomes evident that a fierce battle 
is raging in that quarter. The men of Hill's and Longstreet's divisions 
cheer lustily, and turn with renewed vigor to their work, for they 
know that Jackson has arrived. General Lee puts spurs to his horse 
and gallops off in the direction of the cannonading. He meets 
Jackson at the edge of a wood. 

" Ah, General," said Lee, " I am very glad to see you. I hoped to 
have been with you before." 

Jackson acknowledged the salutation with his usual impassive bow. 
He was mounted on his lean, old sorrel steed. His uniform was dingy 
and stained with dust. His old fatigue-cap was pulled down over his 
eyes. In his hand he held a lemon, at which he was sucking, with his 
whole mind evidently concentrated upon the military problem with which 
he had to deal. 

Lee was trimly, even elegantly, dressed, and acutely alert to all the 
sounds and signs of battle. The sound of the firing along Jackson's lines 
seemed to disquiet him, and he said to Jackson : — 

"That fire is very heavy. Do you think your men can stand it?" 

"They can stand almost anything," was Jackson's response; then, 
after listening a moment to the noise of battle, he added, " Yes, they 
can stand that." 

Up to the hour of Jackson's arrival the battle had been going 
against the Confederates. Many of A. P. Hill's soldiers were raw recruits 
brought up from Georgia and the Gulf States. Before the fire of the 
Union regulars these men fell into a panic. After Hill had been 
engaged for two hours with the centre of the Union line he found his 
troops melting away. " Men were leaving the field in every direction 



336 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6t. 



and in great disorder," said the Confederate General Whiting, in his 
report. " Two regiments, one from South Carolina and one from 
Louisiana, were actually marching back from the fire. Men were skulking 
from the front in a shameful manner." It was at this juncture that 
Jackson arrived, and by his arrival changed the tide of battle. 

The veterans from the Shenandoah valley swung into the Confed- 
erate line of battle, between the divisions of A. P. Hill and D. H. Hill. 
It was the most hazardous spot upon the whole line. Before them 
stretched a level, open plain, full quarter of a mile wide, and swept by 
the fire of the enemy's artillery and sharp-shooters. At the edge of this 
plain rose the sharp declivity called Turkey Hill, sixty feet high and 
steep of ascent. On the crest of the hill were the Federal batteries. 
On the slope of the hill, beneath the muzzles of the cannon, were lines 
of infantry sheltered behind temporary breastworks of logs, fence-rails, 
and knapsacks. 

Against this wall of determined men Jackson hurled his regiments. 
More than once they advanced across the plain, almost to the foot of 
Turkey Hill, only to be swept away by the merciless storm of lead and 
iron from the serrated lines on the hill. Once under the shelter of the 
woods they would form again, march out once more with cheers and 
high hopes, only to be again swept back in confusion. And as the 
battle went on in Jackson's front, so it was going in every part of the 
field. Everywhere the Federals were holding their ground, and, despite 
the overpowering numbers of the Confederates, it seemed as though the 
Union forces would retain possession of the field. Night had almost 
come, " and," writes General Fitz John Porter, " the result seemed so 
favorable that I began to cherish the hope that the worst that could 
happen to us would be a withdrawal after dark, without further injury, — 
a withdrawal which would be forced upon us by the exhausted condition 
of our troops, greatly reduced by casualties, without food, and with little 
ammunition." 

But Porter was doomed to disappointment. The sun had sunk in 
the West, and the shadows had begun to gather, when a suspicious pause 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 337 

in the Confederate fire, and the appearance of heavy bodies of troops 
marching through the woods in the direction of Turkey Hill, warned the 
Federals that a last desperate attempt to pierce their line would be made 
before nightfall. 

It was dusk when the last desperate charge that pierced the Union 
line was made. General Whiting's division, which held the right of Jack- 
son's line, and was made up largely of Texans, won the honors of the 
day. Let one of the Texans who joined in that mad rush across the 
shot-swept plain and up the front of Turkey Hill tell the story: — 

" After remaining in the rear, lying down for perhaps half an hour. 
General Hood came for us, and, moving by the right flank about half a 
mile, halted us in an open space to the right of some timber, and in 
rear of an apple orchard. The sight which we here beheld beggars 
description. The ground was strewn with the dead and dying, while our 
ranks were broken every instant by flying and panic-stricken soldiers. 
In front of us was the ' Old 3d Brigade,' who, but a few moments before, 
had started with cheers to storm the fatal palisade. But the storm of 
lead and iron was too severe ; they wavered for a moment and fell upon 
the ground. At this instant General Hood, who had in person taken 
command of our regiment, commanded in his clear, ringing voice : 
• Forward, quick, march ! ' and onward moved the little band of five 
hundred with the coolness of veterans. Here Colonel Marshall fell dead 
from his horse, pierced by a minie-ball. Volleys of musketry and 
showers of grape, canister, and shell ploughed through us, but were only 
answered by the stern ■* Close up — close up to the colors ! ' and onward 
we rushed over the dead and dying, without a pause, until within about 
one hundred yards of the breastworks. We had reached the apex of 
the hill, and some of the men, seeing the enemy just before them, com- 
menced discharging their pieces. It was at this point that the preceding 
brigades had halted, and beyond which none had gone in consequence 
of the terrible concentrated fire of the concealed enemy. At this critical 
juncture the voice of General Hood was heard above the din of battle : 
' Forward, forward ! charge right down upon them, and drive them out 



338 BATrLE FIELDS OF '61. 

with the bayonet ! ' Fixing bayonets as they moved, they made one 
grand rush for the fort ; down the hill, across the creek and fallen 
timber, and the next minute saw our battle-flag planted upon the 
captured breastwork. The enemy, frightened at the rapid approach of 
pointed steel, rose from behind their defences and started up the hill at 
full speed. One volley was poured into their backs, and it seemed as if 
every ball found a victim, so great was the slaughter. Their works were 
ours, and as our flag moved from the first to the second tier of defences 
a shout arose from the shattered remnant of that regiment, and which 
will long be remembered by those that heard it, — a shout which 
announced that the wall of death was broken, and victory, which for 
hours had hovered doubtfully over that bloody field, had at length 
perched upon the battle-flag of the Fourth Texas. Right and left it was 
taken up and ran along the lines for miles ; long after many of those 
who had started it were in eternity." 

Such is the story of the famous charge which, just at the critical 
moment, pierced the Union line at Gaines's Mill. But what of the blue- 
coated soldiers who for five long hours had held the crest of the hill 
against all comers? Their gallantry merits more than a passing word. One 
single advantage — that of position — they had, but everything else was 
against them. They were outnumbered nearly two to one by their enemies. 
They were almost wholly destitute of defences, for the frail structures 
of rails and knapsacks which they had "built were speedily knocked to 
pieces by the Confederate artillery. Nevertheless they stood their 
ground gallantly against tremendous odds. When they did retreat it 
was in good order, with deliberation, and firing at the advancing enemy 
as they left the field. Said Jackson, in his report, "Although swept 
from their defences by this rapid and almost matchless display of 
daring and valor, the well-disciplined Federals continued, in retreat, to 
fight with stubborn resistance." General Whiting said, " The enemy con- 
tinued to fight in retreat with stubborn resistance, and it soon appeared 
that we had to do with his best troops." And the French histo- 
rian, the Comte de Paris, who was present on that bloody day, writes 




Page 339. — Battle fields of '61. 

BURNING STORES AT WHITE HOUSE. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 341 

enthusiastically of the courage of the Union regulars, who, he says, 
" cared less for the losses they sustained than for the mortification of 
yielding to volunteers." 

One last attempt the Federals made to check the advance of the 
triumphant Confederates. Five companies of regular cavalry dashed 
madly against the Confederate line. It was as hopeless and as dashing 
a charge, almost, as the memorable charge of the Six Hundred at 
Balaclava. The path the riders had to take lay in such a direction that 
not only had they to face a withering fire from the Confederates before 
them, but they received the full force of the Union batteries on the 
hill. As a result their ranks were cut to pieces. Only one officer who 
rode in the charge came out alive. Beaten back by the Confederates, 
the whole troop, with panic-stricken horses, many with empty saddles, 
went dashing back through the Union lines, spreading panic everywhere. 
The teams harnessed to the cannon and limbers were stampeded, and 
in their mad flight spread confusion in the ranks of the retreating 
soldiery. This unfortunate occurrence finally destroyed all hopes of a 
rally. The battle was ended, and the Union troops were in full retreat. 
All that night was spent in getting the shattered army across the 
Chickahominy. 

Few battles of the war were more hotly contested than this fight 
at Gaines's Mill. The Federals lost in killed, 894; wounded, 3,107; 
missing, 2,836, — total, 6,837. The loss of the Confederates has never 
been exactly determined, but was about equal to that of the Federals. 

When morning dawned. General Lee saw that the Federals had left 
his front. He knew nothing of McClellan's intended change of base from 
the Pamunkcy to the James river, and his first act was to send the 
dashing cavalier, " Jeb " Stuart, with a troop of cavalry, forward to cut 
the Federal communications with their depot of supplies at White House. 
Stuart soon discovered that the Federals had already abandoned this line, 
and when he reached White House he found a scene of wholesale de- 
struction. Here had been a depot of supplies for an army of a hundred 
and sixty thousand men. Provisions, munitions of war, camp equipage, 



342 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

everything necessary to provide subsistence for so vast a host, had been 
gathered at this spot. A great quantity of these supplies had already 
been moved, — some by means of steamers which were to go down 
the Pamunkey and York rivers, and come up the James on the other 
side of the peninsula. While the fighting had been going on at Me- 
chanicsville and Gaines's Mill, the road which crossed the peninsula in 
the rear of McClellan's army was thronged with a picturesque pro- 
cession. First there went a herd of twenty-five hundred head of beef 
cattle, driven along by cavalry-men, moving slowly, stopping now and 
then to browse upon the grass by the side of the road, heedless of 
the thunders of hostile cannon in the distance. Then followed an 
almost interminable train of white-topped wagons, drawn by obstinate 
mules, driven by profane teamsters, guarded by soldiers. Through 
the vast forests of the Virginia peninsula this strange cavalcade wound 
its way. 

But the Federals were unable to remove everything from White 
House, and to all that was left the torch was set. Stuart found great 
heaps of provisions, barrels of rice, mountains of flour, and hillocks of 
hams blazing fiercely. Cannon with the trunnions knocked off, muskets 
with the stocks smashed, and clothing torn and cut to pieces covered 
the ground. By sheer hard work the Confederates succeeded in saving 
several railroad locomotives and about ten thousand stand of small- 
arms. The rest of the property gathered there, representing an expen- 
diture of more than a million dollars, was wholly destroyed. 

When the sun rose upon the scene about the banks of the. 
Chickahominy, on Saturday, June 28, 1862, General McClellan and the 
army of the Potomac were in full retreat. His course was through 
the White Oak swamp to Malvern Hill on the James river, where the 
Union gunboats were waiting to give them aid. The forces McClellan 
had fought at Mechanicsville and Gaines's Mill he had left in his rear, 
on the north side of the Chickahominy river, and as his rear-guard 
had burned the bridges as they crossed the stream, he was freed from 
a too close pursuit. But another enemy hung on his flank. General 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '61. 



Magrucler. with twenty-five thoi.sand men, had remained on the south 
side of the Chickahominy during the battles of the two preceding days 
and was now in position to deal the retreating Federals a blow Press' 
.ng forward, he came upon them at Allen's farm, and a spirited con- 
test ensued, in which the Confederates were easily worsted The 
artdlery fire on both sides was terrific, and the Confederates employed 
among their batteries a new engine of war. in the shape of an iron 
clad car mounting one heavy gun, which they pushed along the rail- 
road up to the Federal position. This they called the "land Merrimac " 
and expected great things of it. There is nothing, however, to show 
that It ever proved to be remarkably destructive. 

Though they had fairly won the battle, the Federal troops (Sumner's 
d.v,s,on) quickly abandoned the ground at Allen's farm, and retreated 
to Savage's Station, a few miles beyond. This point had been a supply 
depot for McClellan's army, and here were collected vast quantities of 
stores of all kinds. A great hospital, too, was here established, which 
harbored twenty-five hundred patients; some disabled by wounds but 
more by the deadly swamp fever which was making terrible inroads 
upon McClellan's army. 

At Savage's Station the hostile forces again clashed in deadly 
combat. The Confederates had pressed closely after the Federals and 
came near surprising them in their camp. General Sedg^vick and 
General Franklin were riding across the fields to find General Heintzel- 
man. when they suddenly discovered the Confederate advance " As 
we rode over the open field," writes Franklin, "we saw a group of 
men come out of the wood on the north of the railroad, but some dis- 
tance from the place where we expected to find Heintzelman. I thought 
they were our men, but General Sedgwick looked at them more closely 
stopped, and exclaimed, 'Why, those men are rebels! ' We then turned 
back m as dignified a manner as the circumstances would permit 
But we had hardly started when they opened on us with a field-piece 
keepmg up a lively and uncomfortable fire. A second piece soon 
jomed the first, and they kept up the fire until they were silenced 



344 BATIXE FIELDS OF '6i. 

by our batteries. This ludicrous incident prevented what might have 
been a disastrous surprise for our whole force." 

The Confederates pushed forward their artillery, among it the cele- 
brated railroad battery, and opened fire on the Union lines. The forces 
engaged were the same that had grappled at Allen's farm the day 
before. The Confederates did not long rely upon their artillery, which 
at no time during the war was a match for that of the Federals, 
but speedily brought up their infantry, and hurled against the Union 
line. The assault was met by the brigade of General Burns, supported 
by those of Brooke and Hancock. Throughout the battle, which was 
bitterly contested. Burns behaved with the utmost gallantry. An eye- 
witness speaks of him as " with his clothes and hat pierced, and face 
covered with blood, still rallying and cheering his men." And at one 
time in the battle, when defeat seemed to have come to the Union 
troops, when the Confederates were exultant in their prospects of victory, 
and when two companies of Federals who had long held an exposed 
position were discouraged, and were about to march off the field, "the 
general expostulated, entreated, commanded them, all in vain. At length, 
taking off his torn hat and throwing it down, he besought them not 
to disgrace themselves and their general. This last appeal was success- 
ful. They returned and fought more desperately to wipe out the 
disgrace of a moment." 

After fighting until nightfall, the Confederates sullenly drew off, 
leaving the Federals in possession of the field. 

But, though in itself a victory, the battle at Savage's Station was 
fought only to cover a retreat. All the time that Sumner's guns were 
thundering out in front, the work of breaking camp and joining the 
vast train of wagons moving along to the southward, through the 
gloomy shades of the White Oak swamp, was going on in his rear. 
But the camp at Savage's Station contained much that could not be 
moved. In the tents of the great field hospital were twenty-five hun- 
dred sick or wounded soldiers who had to be left to the tender mercies 
of the enemy. Vast quantities of provisions and ammunition were de- 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



stroyed. A railroad train was loaded with powder, shells, and explosives 
of all kinds. An engine, with steam up, was attached to it, the train 
set on fire, and the throttle of the engine opened. With a roar it 
dashed off up the track, with the flaming train rumbling behind it, 
the flames growing fiercer as they were fanned into fury by the rush 
of the air. A mile or two from the station the railroad crossed the 
Chickahominy on a trestle-bridge which had already been set afire, and 
when the train reached the blazing bridge it went through with a crash, 
to smoulder in the muddy bed of the sluggish creek. Several other loco- 
motives which were at Savage's Station were disposed of in the same 
way. How great was the destruction of property at this point may 
be judged from the description given by Mr. Dabney, the biographer 
of Jackson, of the scenes along the line of the Union retreat. " The 
whole country was full of deserted plunder," he writes : " army wagons 
and pontoon trains partially burned or crippled ; mounds of grain and 
rice and hillocks of dressed beef smouldering; tens of thousands of axes, 
picks, and shovels; camp-kettles gashed with hatchets; medicine-chests 
with their drugs stirred into a foul medley, and all the apparatus of a 
vast and lavish host ; while the mire under foot was mixed with 
blankets lately new, and with overcoats torn from the waist up. For 
weeks afterward agents of our army were busy in gathering in the 
spoils. Great stores of fixed ammunition were saved, while more were 
destroyed." 

Such was the scene that met the eyes of the Confederates when 
they advanced upon Savage's Station on the morning after the battle. 
The Federals had withdrawn during the night,, though it required an 
imperative order from McClellan to induce Sumner to leave the field on 
which he had won a victory. Indeed, the doughty division commander, 
after the repulse of Magruder, had sent to McClellan for " orders to push 
the enemy into the Chickahominy." His chief, however, dampened his 
enthusiasm with a curt reply to the effect that "the rear-guard will follow 
the retreat of the main body of the army," Sumner was sorely disap- 
pointed, and his men were on the verge of mutiny ; but the order was 



346 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

obeyed. One battery, that of Captain Hazzard, was left behind in the 
retreat. Its commander had no idea that the field would be abandoned, 
and, wearied with constant marching and fighting, had thrown himself down 
^with his men, among the guns, for a good night's sleep. When morn- 
ing came all were awakened by the sound of the reveille from drums and 
trumpets in a quarter where all knew no Union troops could be. All 
sprang to their feet and looked around. Not a blue uniform nor a 
Federal flag was to be seen. Before them were the Confederates in 
great numbers, but evidently not suspecting that a Yankee battery .was 
within their very grasp. Quickly hitching up, Captain Hazzard took his 
battery off the field at a walk, that the suspicions of the enemy might 
not be aroused. Once out of sight, however, he lashed his horses to 
a gallop, and reached White Oak bridge just as the rear-guard of the 
retreating Federal column was about to burn it. 

The success of the Federals at Savage's Station insured for them 
an uninterrupted retreat through the swamp. Part of the Confederate 
army followed in their rear, while the remainder made a detour around 
the end of the swamp and came down on its south side, to take Mc- 
Clellan in the flank. Two miles south of the edge of the swamp the 
hostile armies met. 

As in the other battles of the bloody Seven Days, the Federals 
maintained a defensive attitude. They had at one point on their line a 
hastily constructed breastwork of logs and two log-houses, which gave 
shelter to riflemen. General McCall's division bore the brunt of the 
battle, and was gallantly supported by the troops under the command of 
the gallant Phil. Kearney. 

It was two o'clock on the afternoon of June 30 that the battle 
began. The troops of Longstreet and A. P. Hill advanced gallantly to 
the assault. Longstreet hurled his columns against McCall's Pennsyl- 
vanians, but found a veritable stone wall in this brigade, which had come 
to the peninsula with ten thousand men, lost four thousand, and now con- 
tained six thousand soldiers ready to follow their departed comrades, if 
necessary. Against these grim veterans Longstreet's line was dashed to 



BATTLE PTELDS OF '6i. 347 

pieces. Then the Pennsylvanians in their turn charged, driving the 
enemy to the woods, where they turned savagely and beat the Yankees 
back. Scarce half an hour was occupied in this charge and counter- 
charge; but when the lull came the field was seen to be strewed with the. 
dead and wounded, and each side had taken many prisoners. For a 
moment there was quiet, then the storm of war burst again. Here, the 
Confederates took a battery, cutting and shooting down the cannoneers 
at their guns ; but even while they cheered a rush of blue-clad soldiers 
swept down upon them, drove them back, recaptured the guns, and with 
them the standard of a Georgia regiment. Two German batteries were 
forced back a hundred yards. General McCall orders them back to their 
first position. The gunners go unwillingly, and when the general looks 
again he sees the guns deserted. The gunners have cut loose the horses 
and galloped to the rear. The log redoubt has long been abandoned. 
A flank attack early in the battle drove out its defenders, and their dis- 
orderly flight was the one incident of the day which failed to reflect 
credit upon the Northern troops. 

Two hours have passed. The fighting has been desperate. The 
roar of the artillery and the rattle of the musketry have not ceased for an 
instant. But still the Federals have held their ground, beating back charge 
after charge. ' But now the Confederates nerve themselves for a supreme 
effort. They throw aside military rules, discard all caution. In a wedge- 
shaped column, offering the best possible target for artillery, with their 
arms trailed, they dash forward with fierce and deafening yells. Randol's 
battery is their object. The gunners stand manfully at their pieces, and 
load and fire like mad. The shells tear great gaps in the advancing 
host, but still the foe comes on with irresistible force. Back of Randol's 
guns is the Fourth Pennsylvania. It pours in its musketry fire. The 
cannon thunder again. Then, before there is time to reload, the huge 
mass of shouting, yelling, cursing men sweeps down over guns, gunners, 
horses, limbers, and all. One company only of the Fourth Regiment 
holds its ground ; the rest arc swept away in the vortex. General Mc- 
Call rides into the thick of the fight to rally and support his men. He 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



sees a hand-to-hand struggle in which all semblance of military formation 
is lost. Men fight with bayonets, with clubbed muskets, with sponge- 
stafifs and rammers. Recognizing the hopelessness of all attempts to 
rally his men, McCall rides out to one side. General Kearney comes up. 
His division had been tested with just such a charge, but had beaten 
the Confederates back by sending the artillery to the rear and using 
musketry. He says to McCall : — 

" If you can bring on another line in a few minutes I think we can 
stop them." 

McCall rides off in a direction in which he thinks he can find some 
troops. It is growing dark, but he remembers where a part of his 
division had been stationed, and rides thither, accompanied by two 
cavalry-men. In the middle of a road in the pine woods he sees some 
officers about a camp fire. 

"What command is this?" he demands. 

" General Field's," 

" General Field ! I don't know him." 

"Perhaps not," answered the other, who was a Confederate, and 
quickly took in the situation ; ',' you are evidently in the wrong place." 

McCall wheels his horse and turned to run. A soldier of the Forty- 
seventh Virginia springs to catch his horse by the bridle, crying, " Not 
so fast ! " The general is a prisoner. 

Darkness coming on put an end to the battle. One decided success 
the Confederates had won in their capture of Randol's battery ; but they 
had failed in their chief object, which was to sweep aside this detach- 
ment of troops and get at the flank of McClellan's retreating army. 
Had Stonewall Jackson come up, this purpose might have been accom- 
plished, but all that afternoon he was held in check in the recesses of 
White Oak swamp by the determined men of McClellan's rear-guard. 
And so this battle, called by the Federals the battle of Glendale, was 
fought without him. It was the last opportunity the Confederates had to 
crush McClellan's army, and they failed signally to grasp it. When the 
sun next arose after the battle of Glendale, the Federal army had 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 349 



reached the James river, and had estabHshed itself in a position from 
which no force could drive it. How Lee attempted the perilous task, 
and how complete and crushing was his failure, we shall see. 

On the north bank of the James river, two miles from Glendale, 
rises the acclivity called Malvern Hill. About sixty feet in height, it 
presented a smooth front to the north, while on the east and west sides 
it sloped down into meadows or wooded swamps, threaded by deep 
streams, and impassable for troops in the face of an enemy's fire. On 
the south side was the deep and swiftly flowing James river. Up the 
northern front of the hill ran a road, and on either side of this, from 
the low lands to the very crest, were guns. Hither came all the Federal 
batteries after their six days' march through swamps and forests. The 
hill-front fairly bristled with guns, so posted that their muzzles could all 
be turned upon an enemy trying to scale the hill. The Confederates 
were to be like the gladiators in a Roman arena, only instead of a 
thousand cruel eyes glaring down upon them they were to be hemmed 
in by ten thousand rifles and threescore of cannon. More than one of 
the lesser officers of the Confederate army, when they heard of the 
strength of the Federal position, questioned the wisdom of attacking it; 
but General Lee had driven McClellan from Richmond, he had chased 
him across the country for six days, and now he was determined to 
drive him into the James, or force him to surrender. Caution and dis- 
cretion are no less a part of successful generalship than are daring and 
determination. It would have been well for Lee had he heeded the 
dictates of caution when he came upon McClellan's serrated batteries at 
Malvern Hill. 

General Fitz John Porter is in command at Malvern Hill. Mc- 
Clellan has retired to one of the gunboats on the river, and stays there 
until messengers are sent to tell him that his troops notice his absence 
from the field and are discouraged by it. Porter, from his position on 
the crest of a hill, watched the Confederate regiments forming in the 
woods on the morning of July i, and wondered if Lee could possibly be 
intending to tempt fate by trying to storm a position which Nature had 



350 BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 

made impregnable. Nevertheless, this was the intention of the Confed- 
erate general, and he announced his determination by keeping up a 
lively cannonade during the forenoon, while preparing his troops for the 
attack in the afternoon. Of that attack, and the complete victory of 
the Federals, an eye-witness among the Confederates thus tells the 
story : — 

" General McClellan had prepared, in the language of one of his 
officers, ' to clothe the hill in sheets of flame.' Every ravine swarmed 
with his thousands, and along the crest of every hill flashed forth his 
numerous artillery, having for the most part an unbroken play over the 
ascending slope and across cleared fields of twelve hundred yards in 
length. 

" Notwithstanding the formidable nature of this position it was de- 
termined to attack him, and late in the afternoon of Tuesday, July i, 
this tremendous contest commenced. Soon Malvern Hill was sheeted 
with ascending and descending flames of fire. Thirty-seven pieces of 
artillery, supported at a distance by heavy and more numerous batteries 
and by his gunboats, kept faithful ward over the enemy's position, and 
ploughed through our columns, even before they could see the enemy 
or deploy into line of battle. Undismayed by the most terrific cannon- 
ading of the war, the advance of Magruder's forces commenced. On- 
ward, in the face of a storm of shot and shell, they pressed forward until 
within musket-range of the enemy, and then they opened their fire. 
Whole lines of the enemy fell as they stood, or, attempting retreat, were 
overtaken by the bullets of our troops, who never veered in their aim 
or recoiled while the enemy's infantry remained in range ; and when 
forced back for a time by the avalanche of converging artillery, yet 
when the infantry of the enemy ventured again beyond their batteries, 
our lines advanced with shout and bayonet, and drove them back among 
the reserves and behind the wall of fire which flamed along the mouths 
of the circling cannon. Thus the contest ebbed and flowed, until night 
spread its mantle on the battle-field." 

That the Confederates showed magnificent gallantry upon this bloody 




Page 351. — Battle fields of '61. 



A SHELL FROM THE GUNBOATS. 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 353 

day is beyond dispute, and so equally was the fact that they were com- 
pletely, overwhelmingly, crushingly defeated. By the murderous fire of 
the batteries upon the hill they were fairly cut to pieces. Some one had 
blundered in planning the battle, and even while the fight was going on 
both officers and men recognized the hopelessness of their efforts. 
" Come on, come on, men ! " cried one colonel, leading a desperate 
charge; " do you want to live forever?" The troops were willing enough 
to undertake the most perilous feats, and their leaders, from Lee down, 
were merciless in sending them into the deadly field of carnage. The 
colonel of a regiment in Jackson's division who had been ordered to 
storm a Federal battery ventured to protest. 

"Did you order me to advance on that field, sir?" he asked of 
his commander. 

" Yes," answered Jackson curtly, his steel-blue eyes flashing with 
a suggestion of impending wrath. 

" Impossible, sir ! " exclaimed the officer. " My men will be anni- 
hilated ! Nothing in the 'world can live there. They will be an- 
nihilated ! 

" Sir," answered Jackson steadily, looking the officer full in the 
face, " I always endeavor to take care of my wounded and bury my 
dead. You have heard my order, — obey it." 

The charge was made, but it was as fruitless as those that had 
gone before. 

Nightfall found the Union troops victorious everywhere. Both in 
numbers and in position they had greatly the advantage of their foes. 
The Confederates, despite their desperate charges, had at no time 
penetrated the Union line ; had never even come so close to it as to 
arouse the anxiety of the Union commanders. When night came 
McClellan might have concentrated his army and marched straight 
through the shattered ranks of his foes and on to Richmond. But 
instead of doing this, what was his action? On the very heels of 
victory came an order to retreat; to tamely abandon the ground 
bought with the blood of a thousand gallant soldiers, and fall back 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



to Harrison's Landing, some distance down the James. To preserve his 
communications, and to keep under the protection of the gunboats' 
were the reasons assigned by McClellan for this extraordinary order. 
His foremost officers were astounded. Fitz John Porter protested 
warmly. The impetuous Kearney burst out with the indignant assertion: 
" I, PhiHp Kearney, an old soldier, enter my solemn protest against this 
order for a retreat. We ought, instead of retreating, to follow up the 
army and take Richmond ; and in full view of all the responsibilities 
of such a declaration I say to you all, such an order can only be 
prompted by cowardice or treason." 

Kearney's burning words found many an echo about headquarters, 
in the camp, and throughout the nation. Nevertheless the retreat was 
begun that very night, and by daybreak the Confederates were in sole 
possession of a field on which they had sustained a crushing defeat. 
By that time General McClellan's army had reached its new camp at 
Harrison's Landing, where it was destined to remain in shameful in- 
activity for more than two months. 

So ended the famous Peninsular campaign. A more magnificent 
army than that with which McClellan set out from Fortress Monroe 
the world has probably never seen. Magnificently disciplined, — for as 
a disciplinarian its commander has never been excelled, — splendidly 
equipped from out of the lavish wealth of a great nation, supported by 
the good wishes and prayers of a great people, the army had set out 
upon its march. Blunder succeeded blunder. Over-caution was every- 
where apparent. Always overestimating the strength of his enemy and 
underrating his own, McClellan threw away more than one opportunity 
to take Richmond by mere force of numbers. Outgeneralled by Lee 
and forced to undertake the perilous expedient of a change of base, 
he handled his army, during the Seven Days' retreat, with consummate 
skill. It seems like satire to declare that in all the operations of the 
Peninsular campaign General McClellan's military genius was shown 
only in his conduct of the retreat ; but such is none the less the fact. 
In convoying his vast wagon trains, loaded with provisions, across the 



BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i, 



swampy peninsula, and all the time beating back the attacks of an 
army of determined men almost the equal of his own in numbers, he 
accomplished a feat hardly paralleled in military annals. Losing in all 
15,249 men, he inflicted upon the enemy a loss full 2,000 men 
greater. But when the decisive victory of Malvern Hill gave him an 
opportunity to drop the defensive and assume the offensive, to abandon 
the retreat and begin an advance, to throw aside all fear for his own 
safety and threaten the enemy's capital, he was found wanting. There 
come in the careers of all men critical moments. Grant's was at 
Donelson. He grappled with a momentary reverse and overcame it. 
McClellan's fate came to him at Malvern Hill, and the history of his 
decline in military prestige dates from his unnecessary and untimcl}' 
retreat from that hard-won field. 



With the termination of the Peninsular campaign ends that part 
of the Civil War which I have made the subject of this volume. We 
have seen how the war spirit grew, and plunged the nation into a 
fratricidal strife. We have seen the confidence with which the South 
entered upon the war, and the early victories of the Southern soldiers 
followed speedily by serious reverses. How both factions for a time 
hesitated to enter upon a war of invasion, and how the Federals first 
moved bravely into the territory of the seceded States, invading Vir- 
ginia, Tennessee, and Louisiana, has been told in this volume. 

In a succeeding work the present author will describe the events 
of the second period of the war. Rallying for a supreme effort, the 
Confederates drove the Federals from their territory, and followed them 
into the States which had always remained loyal, or had come back 
into the Union. Kentucky. Pennsylvania, and Maryland were thus in- 
vaded, and for a time the people of the North had the war at their 



!56 



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BATTLE FIELDS OF '6i. 



JCiXii^ 



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very gates. But the invaders were beaten back, and a summary of 
the events of the second period shows that marked and decided 
progress was made toward the reestabHshment of the authority of the 
Federal government in all parts of that country which to-day reverences 
and glories in the flag of our reunited nation. 




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